3119 

V295A17 

im 


m 


N HOSTRAND 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


I 


POEMS. 


BY 


MRS.    D.    H.    VAN    NOSTRAND. 


TROY,  N.  Y.: 

EDWARD  H.  LISK,  PRINTER. 
1884. 


AUTHOR'S  EDITION. 


PS 
3(19 

Y.29^/4  /  7 
1884 

CONTENTS. 

Page. 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 19 

ADDRESS  TO  THE  MOON 60 

ADDRESS  TO  WEALTH 42 

A  DREAM 122 

AND  THEN 30 

ANSWER  TO  THE  SUICIDE 135 

CHRISTMAS  TIME 86 

CHRIST'S  LIFE  AND  MISSION 16 

CRUMBS 95 

DECEPTION 125 

EIGHTEEN  HUNDRED  AND  EIGHTY-THREE  .     .     51 

ELEVEN  DAYS  IN  HEAVEN 119 

HOPE 102 

INSPIRATION ,     .     .     .       79 

INTRODUCTION 5 

IS  IT  UP  HlLL  ALL  THE  WAY 40 

Is  THE  ENGINEER  SOBER 14 

KING  ALCOHOL 34 

LIFE   BEYOND 75 

LIFE  THIS  SIDE  THE  RIVER 28 

Lo  THE  POOR    INDIAN 12 

LOVE 72 

MEMORIAL  SERVICE  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD  116 

MEMORY 108 

ON  THE  BURNING  OF  A  CHURCH     ....       92 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  CHILD 78 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  FRIEND 55 

Ox  THE  DEATH  OF  A  FRIEND 81 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MR.  AND  MRS.  VALENTINE     36 
ON  THE  DEATH  OF  THE  PRESIDENT  85 


4  CONTENTS. 

Page. 

ON  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  A  YOUNG  LADY     .     .  44 

ON  THE  WHITTIER  QUILL  PEN 97 

O  TIME 57 

PROGRESSION 69 

STAR  OF  PROGRESSION 99 

SUNSET 47 

SUPREME   LOVE 127 

THE  BLAZING  STAR 22 

THE   BRIDGE  OF  TEARS 46 

THE  DAWN  OF  IMMORTALITY 38 

THE   FALLING    LEAF 48 

THE  SKELETON  IN  THE  CLOSET 141 

THE  LONGINGS  OF  THE  SOUL 65 

THE  OARSMAN 32 

THE  REAPER  DEATH 59 

THE  REFINER'S  FIRE 128 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  FLOWERS 104 

THE  STARRY  FIRMAMENT 67 

THE  SUICIDE 133 

THE  THUNDER  STORM 24 

THE  WANDERING  STAR 8 

THE  WHITE  ELEPHANT 137 

To  A  LADY I  106 

To  A  LADY  FRIEND '.53 

To  A  BROTHER 114 

To  AN  EDITRESS — VOICE  OF  THE  ANGELS  .     .  88 

To  MY  SISTER 110 

TRIUMPH  OF  TRUTH  OVER  ERROR     ....  90 

UPWARD  AND  ONWARD 62 

VOICE  OF  THE  ANGELS 112 

WAITING 139 

WATCHMAN,  WHAT  OF   THE  NIGHT  ....  130 

WOMAN 26 

WRITTEN  WHILE  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD  WAS 

HOVERING  BETWEEN  LIFE  AND  DEATH     .  83 


POEMS. 


Introduction. 

Alone  I  sat  in  the  moonlight, 

Gently  it  beamed  on  my  head  ; 
The  hour  drew  near  unto  midnight, 

All  thought  of  the  present  had  fled. 

Away  to  the  past  I  was  carried, 
On  the  cord  of  memory's  strings  : 

In  meadows,  by  brooklets,  I  tarried  ; 
Time  passed  then  on  bright  golden  wings. 

But  now  I  seemed  to  be  dreaming 
One  long,  long  dream  of  my  life  ; 

My  childhood's  home  I  left  weeping, 
I  must  face  the  cold  world  and  its  strife. 

The  world  with  its  sin,  and  its  sorrow, 

A  battle  indeed,  at  the  best, 
The  teachings  of  childhood  to  follow, 

That  path,  alone,  would  be  blest. 


INTRODUCTION. 

Clouds  would  soon  hide  the  bright  sunlight, 
And  shadows  would  fall  on  my  soul — 

Black  as  the  darkness  of  midnight — 
And  waves  into  billows  would  roll. 

The  sweet  and  the  bitter  together 

Must  taste,  and  roll  under  the  tongue 

With  courage  and  high-wrought  endeavor  ; 
Still  the  soul  would  with  anguish  be  wrung. 

I  looked,  but  was  I  still  dreaming? 

I  saw,  clad  in  radiant  light, 
Before  me  a  beauteous  being, 

Who  dispelled  all  the  shadows  of  night. 

Then  a  voice  I  heard  to  me  speaking, 
Saying  :  "  Rise  from  this  lethargic  state, 

And  truth  and  knowledge  be  seeking  ; 
No  time  to  loiter  and  wait. 

"  Search  out  the  problem  of  living  ; 

The  wonders  of  nature  go  learn  ; 
And  teach  the  wayward  and  sinning 

The  way  of  the  tempter  to  spurn. 

"  Go  teach  them  the  law  of  their  being  ; — 
To  obey  should  be  the  great  aim  ; 

All  the  laws  in  harmony  keeping, 
More  to  covet  than  riches  or  fame. 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

"  Teach  those  who  in  ignorance  suffer, 
And  those  with  blindfolded  eyes, 

That  its  path  grows  rougher  and  rougher, 
And  will  ever  be  shunned  by  the  wise. 

"  And  say,  get  knowledge  and  wisdom — 

To  all  the  pathway  is  free  ; 
It  teaches  the  lessons  of  freedom  ; 

Great  peace  and  great  joy  they  will  see." 

The  vision  now  vanished  before  me  : 

I  said,  I  will  straightway  obey ; 
From  her  teachings  nought  shall  allure  me — 

From  her  path  I'll  not  turn  away. 

If  one  lonely  life  is  made  -brighter 

By  the  thoughts  that  I  may  here  write, 

Or  one  darkened  soul  be  made  better, 
I  will  glad  to  the  world  give  my  mite. 


The  Wandering  Star. 

First,  I  look  at  human  life, 
With  its  tumult,  with  its  strife, 
And  into  dens  of  vice  I  peep, 
Which  give  me  sorrow,  anguish  deep. 

Then  I  say  I'll  now  pass  on  ; 
Here  is  where  life  first  begun  ; 
And  out  of  this  they  all  must  rise, 
For  all  earthly  passion  dies. 

I  now  pass  on,  and  look  again  : 
I  see  life  on  a  higher  plane ; 
By  progression's  onward  tread, 
-All  life  is  unresisting  led. 

I  look,  and  now  what  do  I  see  ? 
Spirit  in  the  ascendancy  ! 
It  over  matter  has  control — 
The  body  subject  to  the  soul. 

All  life  grows  purer,  higher  still  ; — 
Disease  subjected  to  the  will ; 


THE  WANDERING  STAR. 

All  ripened  fruit  upon  life's  tree, 
A  passing  zephyr  sets  it  free. 

The  wandering  star  this  also  saw  : 
Life  in  harmony  with  law  ; 
So  spirit  leaves,  when  passing  o'er, 
Only  a  ripple  on  the  shore. 

The  mortal  form  returns  to  earth  ; 
The  spirit,  through  the  second  birth, 
Released,  forever,  ever  free, 
Will  through  eternal  ages  be. 

Ah  !  now,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  find  : 
'Tis  said  beyond  we  all  are  blind, 
That  I  may  never  hope  to  see 
The  future  state  of  you  and  me. 

I  see  with  vision  clear  and  bright, — 
It  is  the  spirit's  inner  sight, — 
All  spirit  rising  ever  higher, 
In  answer  to  innate  desire. 

I  wander  on  among  the  spheres  ; 

I  see  no  sorrow,  see  no  tears  ; 

No  more  from  loved  ones  there  to  part, 

In  sympathy  joined  heart  to  heart. 


10  THE  WANDERING  STAR. 

I  see  bright  angels,  golden-crowned, 
Teaching  those  in  ignorance  bound  ; 
With  loving  hands  their  bonds  have  broke, 
And  lifted  is  their  heavy  yoke. 

Now  do  you  ask,  what  do  I  find  ? 
No  discord  in  the  realm  of  mind  ; 
For  all  is  harmony  sublime, 
Blending  like  a  silver  chime. 

I  see  the  glorious  central  sun, — 
All  colors  blending  into  one — 
Sending  forth  its  colors  bright, 
Each  spirit's  own  peculiar  light. 

Within  that  glorious,  central  sun, 
God  sits  upon  his  great  white  throne, 
And  over  all  his  scepter  wields, 
In  love  controls,  in  love  fulfils. 

Wide  is  the  field  I  wandered  o'er  ; 
I  back  to  earth  return  once  more  ; 
I  gathered,  all  along  my  way, 
The  knowledge  that  about  me  lay. 

Did  I  say  the  field  was  wide  ? 

It  stretches  out  on  every  side  ; 

And  he  who  would  of  wisdom  learn, 

Progression's  pathway  must  not  spurn. 


THE  WANDERING  STAR.  11 

I  wander  on,  and  leave  behind 
All  that  binds  the  powers  of  mind  ; 
So  when  one  truth  we  comprehend, 
Then  wisdom  more  to  us  will  send. 

O  man,  the  rock  on  which  to  build 
Is  truth  and  knowledge,  God  has  willed  ; 
And  science  this  great  truth  has  taught  : 
Eternal  life  was  never  bought. 

It  is  a  fact  in  nature  deep  ; 
Awake,  O  man,  from  death-like  sleep  ! 
For  searchers  after  truth  will  see 
The  fact  of  immortality. 

More  fields  I  have  yet  to  explore  ; 
I'll  go  and  gather  as  before  ; 
I'll  bring  the  good,  I'll  bring  the  true, 
And  gladly  give  them  unto  you. 


Lo,  the  Poor  Indian ! 

O  pale  face,  listen  while  I  speak, 
For  lo  !  the  red  man's  heart  is  sad  ; 

Ye  bade  him  go,  new  home  to  seek  ; 
No  more  can  he  be  glad. 

O'er  all  these  lands  he  once  did  roam, 

Through  forest  dense  and  dark  and  wild  ; 

Here  was  the  red  man's  hut  and  home, 
For  he  was  nature's  child. 

A  sailor  landed  on  our  shores, 
From  far  across  big  waters  came  ; 

We  gave  him  of  our  humble  stores, 
He  gave  us  liquid  flame. 

We  see  no  more  the  red  man's  bow, 
But  the  white  soldier  with  his  gun, 

For  he  must  to  the  westward  go, 
Toward  the  setting  sun. 

At  length  the  white  man's  axe  was  heard, 
And  forests  bowed  and  fell  awav  ; 


LO  !    THE  POOR  INDIAN.  J3 

All  nations  of  the  earth  are  stirred 
By  his  commanding  sway. 

A  call  to  the  happy  hunting-ground, 
The  Indian  waits  with  listening  ear  ; 

With  bow  and  spear  he's  onward  bound, 
To  fell  the  fleeing  deer. 

You  listened  long,  you  listened  well, 
And  now,  kind  friend,  go  on  thy  way, 

And  in  thy  home  where  thou  dost  dwell, 
For  the  poor  red  man  pray. 


Is  the  Engineer  Sober  ? 

Is  he  a  sober 

Engineer 
On  whom  our  lives  depend  ? 

We  should  be  sure 

His  brain  is  clear, 
As  on  our  way  we  wend. 

As  on  they  go 
Do  you  not  know 

They  carry  precious  freight  ? 
That  human  life, 
And  child  or  wife, 

Are  lost  if  they  are  late  ? 

When  on  the  car 

Nought  e'er  should  mar 
Faith  in  the  engineer  ; 

Then  if  they  slow 

Or  fast  do  go, 
There'll  be  no  cause  to  fear. 

A  man  whose  brain 
By  Bacchus'  chain 


IS  THE  ENGINEER  SOBER  ?  15 

Is  bound,  should  never  steer, 

Or  have  in  charge, 

Be  it  small  or  large, 
The  lives  that  are  so  dear. 

For  man  must  learn  ; 

Experience  stern 
Will  teach,  how  to  protect 

The  lives  of  those 

That  God  bestows  ; 
Now  on  these  things  reflect. 

Remember  then, 

Ye  railroad  men, 
I  pray  you  give  an  ear, 

And  never  trust 

Only  a  just 
And  sober  engineer. 


Christ's  Life  and  Mission. 

Near  two  thousand  years  ago, 

A  child  was  born  of  parents  low  ; 

He  came  to  bring  good  will  and  peace  ; 

The  world  from  darkness  to  release. 

He  taught  a  precept  great  and  grand  ; 
The  law  of  love  was  His  command  ; 
To  do  that  work,  was  what  He  sought, 
And  live  the  precepts  that  He  taught. 

His  mission  here  was  to  do  good  ; 
The  Sabbath  He  did  not  exclude, 
To  heal  the  sick,  and  feed  the  poor, 
He  went  about  from  door  to  door. 

In  childhood  He  could  wise  men  teach, 
And  give  such  knowledge  none  could  reach, 
For  in  the  temple  He  was  found, 
And  all  the  doctors  did  confound. 

He  was  sought  by  rich  and  poor, 
If  they  a  grievance  did  endure  ; 


CHRIST'S  LIFE  AND  MISSION.  1 

They  must  have  faith,  He  said  to  them  ; 
They  need  but  touch  His  garment's  hem. 

This  man  was  one  who  grief  had  seen  ; 
Was  called  the  lowly  Nazarene  ; 
With  Him  the  people  loved  to  share 
Their  rural  homes  and  frugal  fare. 

He  shared  their  sorrow  and  their  grief  ; 
Was  always  sure  to  give  relief — 
To  lead  them  out  of  darkest  night, 
And  into  rays  of  living  light. 

He  was  a  man  of  noble  mien, 
Such  as  the  world  had  never  seen, 
And  like  all  truth  that's  brought  to  light, 
He  needs  must  suffer  for  the  right. 

His  followers  He  set  to  give 

Light  unto  men,  and  how  to  live  ; 

He  cast  out  spirits  by  a  word, 

And  made  men  whole,  as  ye  have  heard. 

And  like  all  truth,  when  first  it's  taught, 

His  enemies  to  kill  Him  sought; 

And  He  by  them  was  so  belied, 

They  cried  :  "  We'll  have  Him  crucified  !" 


CHRIST  S  LIFE  AND  MISSION. 

The  evil  powers  were  brought  to  bear, 
And  He  a  crown  of  thorns  must  wear ; 
And  to  the  cross  they  nailed  Him  high, 
Thereon  to  suffer  and  to  die. 

"O  give  me  drink  !"  they  heard  Him  call  ; 
They  gave  Him  wormwood  mixed  with  gall. 
He  said  :   "  O,  Father,  let  this  pass  ;    - 
Yet  not  my  will,  but  Thine,  alas  !  " 

And  yet  He  triumphed  o'er  them  all  ; 
The  spirit  nothing  can  befall  ; 
And  the  third  day  He  rose  again, 
To  bring  glad  tidings  unto  men. 

They  saw  Him,  yet  could  not  believe ; 
They  thought  their  sight  did  them  deceive. 
He  gave  a  test — 'twas  their  desire — 
Nothing  more  did  they  require. 

To  those  who  stood  around  Him  there, 
He  said  :  "  I  will  a  place  prepare, 
So  where  I  am  there  ye  shall  come, 
For  in  my  Father's  house  there's  room." 

He  then  ascended  toward  the  sky  ; 
They  watched  Him  with  a  wondering  eye  ; 
And  as  He  soared  away  so  light, 
A  cloud  received  Him  out  of  sight. 


Abraham  Lincoln. 

A  man  of  lowly  origin 

Imperceptibly  did  rise, 
The  nation's  highest  gift  to  win 

By  sterling  qualities. 

And  over  these  United  States 

He  ruled  both  well  and  true  ; 
It  seemed  the  furies  and  the  fates 

Did  him  too  well  pursue. 

For  neither  wisdom,  love  nor  law, 

This  nation  could  protect  ; 
With  traitors  we  must  wage  a  war, 

Or  they  the  States  dissect. 

He  called  together  boys  in  blue, 
With  knapsack,  sword  and  gun  ; 

They  fought  like  soldiers  tried  and  true, 
From  morn  till  set  of  sun. 

They  said  :  "Our  best  heart's  blood  we'll  give 
For  homes  and  country  too  ; 


20  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 

For  rebellion  shall  not  live  ; — 
To  laws  they  must  be  true." 

Our  noble  boys,  who  fought  so  well, 

On  battle  field  were  slain, 
Or  forced  into  a  dungeon  cell — 

To  history  a  stain. 

At  last  the  news  flashed  o'er  the  land 
That  we  the  foe  had  vanquished. 

God  bless  brave  Grant  and  his  command, 
For  victory's  accomplished. 

There  sits  our  chosen  man  of  state, 

No  longer  we're  afraid  ; 
He's  proved  himself  both  wise  and  great, 

In  blood  we'll  no  more  wade. 

Let  us  give  homage  to  the  name 
Of  Lincoln,  true  and  brave  ; 

His  name  in  history  and  in  fame 
Is  of  one  who  freed  the  slave. 

He  from  the  colored  people  broke 
The  chains  that  were  so  strong  ; 

They  blessings  on  his  name  invoke, 
And  give  him  praise  in  song. 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN.  21 

That  Abraham  Lincoln  has  been  shot  ! 

Came  flashing  o'er  the  wires, 
With  southern  traitors  in  the  plot, 

Who  kindled  southern  fires. 

They  sought  his  life  with  bold  intent, 

(The  fires  were  still  aglow,) 
And  our  defenseless  President 

Received  the  fatal  blow. 

A  pall  of  blackness  overspread 

The  earth  like  unto  night  ! 
The  people's  hearts  were  filled  with  dread  ; 

They  prayed  to  God  for  light. 

Let  us  revere  his  honored  name. 

Not  dead  !  the  veil  is  rent ! 
We  see  him  on  the  heights  of  fame, 

Our  martyred  President. 

That  noble  spirit,  freed  from  earth, 

Is  working  still  to  free 
The  mind  of  man,  bound  from  his  birth, 

In  bonds  of  slavery. 


The  Blazing  Star. 

Ye  wanderer  through  the  realm  of  space, 
Have  you  no  home  nor  resting-place  ? 
Whence  comest  thou,  and  whither  go  ? 
O  beauteous  wanderer,  I  would  know  ! 

Before  God  said  :  "  Let  there  be  light !  " 
Did  you  not  wander  all  the  night, 
Onward  as  ages  come  and  go  ? 
Tell  me,  wanderer,  is  it  so  ? 

As  ye  travel  on  and  on, 
You  need  no  light  of  moon  nor  sun  ; 
A  light  is  beaming  in  your  eye, 
A  light  all  darkness  will  defy. 

A  visitor  along  your  way, 
Wondrous  grandeur  you  display  ; 
Ever  on,  nor  ever  tire, 
Rides  your  chariot  of  fire. 

Behind  you  flows  a  fiery  trail  ; 
You  need  no  anchor,  need  no  sail  ; 


THE  BLAZING  STAR.  23 

No  power  of  earth  can  you  control, 
While  on  and  on  the  ages  roll. 

"  I'll  give  an  answer  short  and  terse. 
My  home  is  all  the  universe  ; 
My  resting-place,  by  God's  command, 
Is  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand. 

"  I  heard  you  ask  from  whence  I  came, 
A  blazing  star  with  fiery  flame. 
This  is  my  answer,  deep  and  vast, 
I  came  from  the  ages  of  the  past. 

"  I  hear  you  say,  '  O  whither  bound  ?' 
In  the  future  I'll  be  found. 
A  wonder  for  all  worlds  to  see, 
The  Blazing  Star  will  ever  be." 


The  Thunder  Storm. 

A  cloud  o'erspread  the  western  sky, 
Of  blackness  of  the  darkest  dye  ; 
It  seemed  the  thunder's  deafening  roll 
Would  shake  the  earth  from  pole  to  pole. 

The  storm-king,  riding  on,  draws  nigher 
In  his  great  chariot  of  fire. 
His  voice  bursts  forth  in  thunder  tones, 
And  dies  away  in  sighing  moans. 

His  sceptre  o'er  the  earth  he  wields, 
Disaster  to  the  people  deals  ; 
Terror  holds  o'er  all  full  sway, 
Like  coming  of  the  judgment  day. 

It  seemed  that  Gabriel's  trumpet  blew, — 
That  through  the  air  the  dry  bones  flew  ;- 
That  a  new  earth  would  soon  be  born, 
Thus  heralded  by  Gabriel's  horn. 

Seemed  mother  Nature  must  give  birth 
To  a  new  heavens,  a  new  earth  ; 


THE  THUNDER  STORM.  25 

The  old  earth,  with  its  pomp  and  glare, 
Must  resolve  to  chaos  there. 

The  dead  of  all  the  human  race 

Would  come  forth  from  their  resting-place, 

To  live  upon  the  earth  new-born, 

Of  sin  and  wickedness  now  shorn. 


Woman. 

Do  you  say  't  is  not  her  sphere 
In  public  places  to  appear  ? 
That  she  in  home  should  ever  be 
Bound  in  bonds  of  slaver}'  ? 

And  must  the  self-styled  lords  control 
The  laws  that  govern  woman's  soul  ? 
To  serve  him  well  with  cheerful  face, 
And  in  her  home  preside  with  grace  ? 

But  it  is  woman's  sphere,  we  say, 
To  use  her  powers  where'er  she  may  ; 
In  lowly  cot  or  learning's  halls, 
Where'er  the  voice  of  duty  calls. 

Her  armor  round  about  her  gird, 
And  let  her  pleading  voice  be  heard 
In  the  halls  of  government, 
By  the  people's  full  consent. 

Pulpit,  platform,  anywhere, — 
In  the  Presidential  chair, — 


WOMAN. 

Let  her  help  the  cause  to  fight 

Of  justice,  freedom,  truth  and  right. 

And  side  by  side  walk  on  with  man 
Through  life's  passing  caravan, 
And  on  immortal  shores  shall  be 
His  equal  through  eternity. 


Life  this  Side  the  River. 

In  the  happy  days  of  childhood, 
Sometimes  roaming  through  the  wildwood, 

Ever  gladly, 

Never  sadly, 
Then  we  say  life's  full  of  glee. 

A  few  years  pass,  life  seems  more  earnest ; 
We  vie  to  see  which  shall  be  wisest, 

Ever  hoping, 

Never  moping, 
Then,  we  say,  life's  fair  to  see. 

Then  come  the  days  of  earnest  working ; 
We  must  not  falter  nor  be  lurking  ; 
Ever  trying, 
Never  sighing, 
Then,  we  say,  life's  not  a  dream. 

Then  comes  the  day  that's  mixed  with  sadness, 
And  for  those  days  of  joy  and  gladness 

Ever  longing, 

Never  seeing 
Days  more  glad  or  bright  to  seem. 


LIFE  THIS  SIDE  THE  RIVER.  29 

O  then  the  days  of  gloom  and  darkness 
Hover  like  a  cloud  of  blackness, 

Ever  falling, 

Never  lifting ! 
We  feel  we'd  better  never  been. 

At  last  the  light  shines  through  the  darkness, 
And  the  cloud  of  so  much  blackness 
Ever  lifting, 
Never  falling, 
So  then  we  say  we've  more  to  win. 

To  live  above  all  clouds  that  hover, 
So  high  we  cannot  them  discover, 

Ever  rising, 

Never  losing, 
Peace  and  joy  will  enter  in. 

Life  is  now  most  sad  and  real, 
For  we've  passed  through  an  ordeal, 
Ever  teaching, 
Never  longing 
For  the  pleasures  bought  by  sin. 


And  Then. 

It  is  said  :  "  A  little  more 
Must  be  added  to  my  store, 
And  then  I'll  with  the  needy  share 
Such  of  my  goods  as  I  can  spare. 

"  A  little  more  I'll  hoard  away, 
And  lay  up  for  a  rainy  day  ; 
And  then  I'll  turn  not  from  my  door 
The  suffering  and  the  starving  poor." 

The  drunkard  says  :  "  But  one  glass  more 
Will  give  the  strength  I  had  before  ; 
And  then  I'll  never  taste  again 
That  which  brings  madness  to  my  brain. 

"  One  glass  more  before  I  go  ; 
Sure  that  will  not  bring  want  or  woe  ; 
And  then  I  never  will  heed  more 
The  voice  of  the  tempter  at  my  door." 

Says  the  man  low  down  in  sin  : 
"Only  this,  perhaps,  I'll  win, 


AND  THEN.  31 

And  then  from  dens  of  vice  I'll  turn, 
For  within  a  hell  doth  burn. 

"  One  game  more  O  let  me  play  ! 
I  this  game  may  win  to-day  ; 
And  then  I'll  say,  O  man,  take  care  ! 
Of  the  gambler's  fate  beware  !" 

So  when  upon  a  bed  of  pain, 
He  asks  for  help,  and  asks  in  vain  ; 
And  then  he'll  say  :  "If  I  could  live, 
To  doing  good  my  life  I'd  give." 

He  dies  ;  the  world  the  same  goes  on  ; 
They  say  't  is  better  that  he's  gone, 
Gone  the  way  of  other  men  ; 
Again  we  will  repeat,  and  then — 


The  Oarsman. 

Do  you  hear  the  dip  of  the  boatman's  oar, 
As  he  glides  away,  away  from  the  shore  ? 
The  sounds  soft  as  music  fall  on  the  ear, 
Of  the  boatman's  oar  as  he  doth  steer. 

Dip,  dip,  dip,  softly  floats  on  the  air ; 
Watchful,  he  guides  his  boat  onward  with  care  ; 
Smoothly  he  rides  o'er  the  wave  and  the  tide, 
Hear  the  dip,  dip,  dip,  of  the  oars  at  his  side. 

So  likewise  we  all,  on  life's  river  side, 

Must  work  with  a  will  against  storm,  against 

tide  ; 

But  soft  as  the  dip  of  the  boatman's  oar, 
Comes  a  muffled  sound  from  the  other  shore. 

Soft  and  low  comes  the  sound,  yet  denned  and 

clear ; 
Brings  a  balm  that  is  healing  to  those  that  will 

hear  ; 

Speaks  of  a  land  to  the  spirit  within, 
Where  we  rest  from  our  toil  and  our  fight  against 

sin. 


THE  OARSMAN.  38 

Shall  rest   from    our   labors,   the  billows    have 

braved  ; 
Have  crossed  the  dark  stream,  in  its  rough  waters 

laved ; 

And  lay  down  our  oars,  there  to  lie  evermore  ; 
We  need  not  their  help,  we  have  landed  on  shore. 

Have  landed  on  shore,  and  are  waiting  for  those 
Who  still  ply  the  oars,  and  are  seeking  repose. 
Soon  we  shall  hear  the  soft  dip  as  they  come, 
Nearing  the  shore  of  their  heavenly  home. 

Yes,  nearing  the  shore,  from  their  labors  at  rest, 
With  the  true  and  the  tried,  with  the  pure  and 

the  blest, 

To  dwell  in  the  mansions  of  light  and  of  love, 
By  our  Father  prepared  in  the  kingdom  above. 


King  Alcohol. 

King  Alcohol !  thou  fiend  of  man, 
Thy  deadly  arm  draws  whom  it  can 
Into  the  toils  of  sin  and  shame, 
A  blasted  life,  dishonored  name. 

He  rules  the  land  with  tyrant  sway, 
And  whom  he  will  he  bids  obey ; 
And  willing  subjects  serve  him  well, 
While  drinking  in  the  fires  of  hell. 

O  man,  that  burning,  fiery  flood 
Is  poisoning  all  your  best  heart's  blood, 
And  reason  soon  deserts  its  throne, 
And  man  becomes  a  brute  alone. 

To  God  the  mother  sends  a  cry, 
When  her  son,  with  blood-shot  eye, 
Comes  reeling  home  with  staggering  gait  ; 
With  breaking  heart  she'll  for  him  wait. 

O  look  into  that  empty  cot ! 
By  the  world  they  seem  forgot ; 


KING  ALCOHOL.  35 

Those  little  children,  shivering,  bare  ! 
No  light,  no  fire,  no  bread  are  there. 

Their  comforts  all  have  gone  for  rum. 
O  listen  !     Is  the  world  then  dumb? 
That  wife  and  mother  dreads  to  hear 
Her  husband's  step,  and  quakes  with  fear. 

O,  sleeping  world,  awake,  arise  ! 
No  tyrant  king  should  rule  the  wise  ; 
O  break  away  that  galling  chain  ; 
Peace  and  plenty  then  will  reign. 

O,  shall  we  not  destroy  the  cause 
Of  crime  and  accident,  nor  pause 
Until  from  alcohol  we  are  free, 
And  man  released  from  slavery  ? 


On  the   Death  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Valentine, 

WHO     WERE     BURNED     IN    THE     CAR    IDLEWILD,    ON 
THEIR  WEDDING  TOUR  TO  NEW  YORK. 

The  hand  of  death  has  set  its  seal 
On  two  hearts  joined  for  woe  or  weal  ; 
O,  death  !  thy  hand  cannot  divide 
That  loving  husband  and  his  bride. 

Their  love  is  stronger  than  the  flame  ; 
Its  fiery  tongue  it  puts  to  shame  ; 
And  while  they're  in  death's  iron  grasp, 
They  heart  to  heart  each  other  clasp. 

No  longer  can  the  hand  of  death, 
Or  fiery  flame  with  heated  breath, 
Hold  their  spirits  in  its  power, — 
This  bride  and  bridegroom  of  an  hour. 

An  angel  wrhispers,  stooping  low, 
"  Come  and  taste  the  joys  that  flow 
From  the  fountain-head  of  life, 
Awav  from  all  this  earthlv  strife. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MR.  AND  MRS.  VALENTINE. 

"A  love  too  pure,  too  true  for  earth, 
Such  love  from  angels  had  its  birth  ; 
O  come,  and  on  the  river  brink, 
You  from  its  waters  deep  will  drink." 

To  her  husband  close  she  clings  ; 
They  soar  away  on  angel  wings, 
To  dear  ones  waiting  over  there, 
Who  greet  that  newly-wedded  pair. 

They  taste,  with  faces  all  aglow, 
Of  joys  that  earth  can  never  know, 
And  for  their  loved  ones  Avatching,  wait 
Their  coming  through  the  heavenly  gate. 

O,  ye  loved  ones  on  the  earth, 
Mourn  not  for  those  of  angel  birth  ; 
For  with  loving  hands  so  white 
They  hold  for  us  a  beacon  light. 

A  light  that  shines  across  our  way, — 
'T  will  guide  us  on  to  endless  day, 
Where  no  more  tears  of  sorrow  fall, 
And  God  alone  is  all  in  all. 


The  Dawn  of  Immortality. 

Memory  of  my  childhood  days 

Gives  me  greeting, 
While  deep  sadness  on  me  preys 

For  joys  so  fleeting. 

Again  o'er  hillside,  meadow,  glen, 

Alone  I  wander ; 
From  the  busy  haunts  of  men 

I  sit  and  ponder. 

I  look  beyond  into  the  future, 

Like  one  dreaming 
Of  the  joys  of  human  nature, 

Only  seeming. 

Passing  on,  there  falls  a  shadow, 

All  is  dark  ; 
It  falls  alike  o'er  glen  and  meadow, — 

Listen  !     Hark  ! 

A  voice  is  speaking  of  the  sorrow, 
Of  the  tears  ; 


THE  DAWN  OF  IMMORTALITY.  39 

But  it  gives  hope  for  the  to-morrow — 
Have  no  fears. 

Passing  on,  a  voice  still  speaking, 

Joy  for  tears  ; 
No  more  hearts  with  sorrow  breaking 

In  future  years. 

A  light  is  shining  through  the  shado\vs, 

Drawing  near  ; 
It  \vill  cover  glen  and  meadows, 

'T  is  even  here. 

No  more  can  death  bring  to  us  sorrow, 

Or  its  sting  ; 
No  longer  wait  then  for  the  morrow  ; 

Joyful  sing. 


Is  it  Up  Hill  all  the  Way  ? 

No,  not  up  hill  all  the  way  ; 
Many  a  place  of  rest  have  they  ; 
For  it  augments  the  powers  of  flight 
To  rest  npon  each  rugged  height. 

Those  who  struggle  on  are  blest 
In  the  consciousness  of  rest ; 
In  powers  renewed  ascend  still  on 
To  grander  heights  to  rest  upon. 

It  is  by  climbing  that  you  win  ; 

It  is  by  rest  you  gather  in. 

Let  those  take  courage,  then,  who  wait 

At  progression's  open  gate. 

On  each  height  you  leave  a  mark, 
Of  purifying  fire  a  spark  ; 
It  guides  the  feet  that  come  below, 
On  the  upward  path  to  go. 

Wrapped  about  by  guiding  light, 
Rapid  is  your  upward  flight, 


IS  IT   UP  HILL  ALL  THE  WAY  ? 

Emerging  into  peace  and  joy, 
Where  nought  that's  evil  can  decoy. 

Your  exultant  spirit  then 
Feels  pleasure  overreaching  pain  ; 
So  then  progression's  path,  we  say, 
Is  not  up  hill  all  the  way. 


41 


Address  to  Wealth. 

You  who  love  to  hoard  your  gold,' 
And  lay  up  treasures  here  untold, 
O  listen  to  the  orphan's  cry  ; 
Would  you  him  a  crust  deny  ? 

And  ye  who  live  in  palace  halls, 
Know  not  the  pang  when  hunger  calls, 
The  Supreme  Giver  this  doth  say  : 
"  The  poor  are  with  you  every  day." 

O  ye  who  live  in  luxury  high, 
Can  you  the  orphan's  call  defy, 
When  he  stands  before  your  door, 
And  for  aid  he  does  implore  ? 

O,  ye  who  rest  can  never  take, 
And  of  your  gold  an  idol  make, 
Come,  help  the  needy,  suffering  poor ; 
'T  will  give  you  peace  not  known  before. 

Give  freely  to  the  needy  now  ; 

A  crown  will  rest  upon  your  brow, — 


ADDRESS  TO  WEALTH.  43 

Pearls  of  widows',  orphans'  tears, 
More  lasting  than  the  wealth  of  years. 

O  man  of  wealth,  I  pray  take  heed 
On  the  earth  to  sow  good  seed  ; 
Then  like  a  field  of  ripened  grain, 
A  golden  harvest  you  will  gain. 

Yes,  give,  and  on  you  then  will  rest 
The  benedictions  of  the  blest  ; 
The  treasures  you  will  find  above 
Will  be  unselfishness  and  love. 

If  to  your  brother  man  to  give, 
Brings  blessings  on  you  while  you  live, 
The  prayers  of  hearts  most  grateful  given, 
Are  treasures  stored  for  you  in  heaven. 


On  the  Marriage  of  a  Young  Lady, 

WHO  WAS  TO  EMBARK  FOR  EUROPE. 

No  more  your  girlhood's  diadem 
Will  rest  upon  your  brow, 

But  in  its  place  a  richer  gem, 
One  of  the  marriage  vow. 

So  firmly  are  the  jewels  set 
Within  that  golden  crown, 

The  world  can  never  them  dissect, 
Nor  tarnish  by  a  frown. 

May  it  reflect  the  golden  rays 

Of  peace,  of  love,  of  joy  ; 
Give  happiness  for  future  days 

That  time  cannot  destroy. 

Farewell,  and  when  you  journey  o'er 

The  billowy,  briny  deep, 
O  may  you  safely  land  on  shore 

Where  our  forefathers  sleep. 

And  in  that  oriental  land, 
Where  sages  had  their  birth, 


ON  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  A  YOUNG  LADY.     45 

Beside  their  sacred  ashes  stand, 
And  think  upon  their  worth. 

You're  sailing  on  life's  ocean  wide, 

Before  you  beams  a  star  ; 
A  hopeful  and  a  happy  bride, 

No  wave  your  joy  to  mar. 

Farewell,  and  may  you  evermore 
Glide  smoothly  o'er  life's  sea, 

And  safely  land  upon  the  shore 
Of  immortality. 


The  Bridge  of  Tears. 

I  look,  and  lo  !  before  me  lies 

A  bridge  of  mortals'  tears  ; 
It  spans  the  gulf  to  paradise, 

Beneath  are  sins  of  years. 

Parting  tears  are  those  we  shed 

For  loved  ones  passing  on  ; 
They  to  the  other  shore  have  fled, 

Through  tears  the  goal  have  won. 

Repentant  tears  the  soul  will  cleanse 
Of  deeds  though  black  as  night  ; 

They  purify  the  lowest  dens, 

And  make  them  clean  and  white. 

Tears  for  wrongs  that  we  must  bear, 

By  aching  hearts  are  shed  ; 
Beyond  the  bridge,  thro'  tears  and  prayer, 

The  soul  at  last  is  led. 

The  fount  of  tears,  O  let  it  flow  ! 

They're  blessings  to  us  given  ; 
Through  them  though  hard  we  all  must  go, 

To  fit  the  soul  for  heaven. 


Sunset. 

On  earth  the  sun  a  glow  doth  send 
Of  beauteous  hue  and  light, 

When  day  and  night  together  blend, 
And  he  recedes  from  sight. 

The  earth  is  clad  in  darkness  deep, 

And  weary  feet  find  rest  ; 
Nature's  sweet  restorer,  sleep, 
Becomes  a  welcome  guest. 

A  hush  o'erspreads  both  sea  and  land, 
In  the  solemn  twilight  hour  ; 

We  feel  the  presence  of  a  Hand 
Of  wisdom  and  of  power. 

Life,  like  the  glorious  close  of  day, 

All  smiling  seeks  repose  ; 
The  spirit  bursts  from  out  the  clay, 

And  blossoms  like  the  rose. 

E'en  like  the  setting  sun  it's  gone, 
And  leaves  all  black  as  night  ; 

Yet  to  the  spirit  't  is  the  dawn 
Into  eternal  light. 


The  Falling  Leaf. 

We  look  and  say 

The  forest  gay 
Is  clad  in  colors  bright  ; 

And  soon  they  all 

To  earth  must  fall, 
And  perish  in  our  sight. 

The  all-wise  hand 

Of  their  Maker  planned, 
That  they  must  thus  decay  ; 

But  the  coming  spring 

Will  gladly  bring 
The  resurrection  day. 

Sunshine  and  shower 

In  turn  give  power 
To  wake  from  their  sleep  of  death  ; 

And  birds  in  spring 

Among  them  sing, 
And  inhale  their  sweet-scented  breath. 


THE  FALLING  LEAF.  49 

Moulder  and  rust, 

Decay  and  dust, 
Are  nature's  law  of  demand  ; 

Still  they  do  reign 

To  quicken  again, 
As  the  law  of  God  doth  command. 

The  same  law  in  man 

Works  out  the  plan 
Written  on  each  golden  page  ; 

Like  the  seed  that  is  sown, 

The  earth  claims  its  own, 
Although  it  be  savage  or  sage. 

But  the  spirit  lives  on, 

Its  freedom  has  won, 
Through  the  process  of  death  and  decay; 

Triumph  of  life 

Over  death  and  its  strife, 
And  temptation  that  comes  in  its  way. 

The  spirit  then  free 

Beyond  the  dark  sea, 
Soars  away  to  evergreen  bowers, 

Not  tinted  by  age, 

Nor  mark  on  its  page 
Of  the  waning  of  bright  summer  hours. 


50  THE  FALLING  LEAF. 

No  tinted  pall 

There  can  fall, 
Of  the  dying  year  a  sign  ; 
Evergreen  bowers 

On  immortal  shores 
Are  emblems  eternal,  divine. 

Endless  the  day, 

Divine  is  the  ray 
That  on  the  spirit  doth  pour  ; 

Its  beams  shed  a  light 

Of  glory  so  bright, 
Through  eternity  it  shall  endure. 


1883. 

Eighteen  hundred  eighty-three, 

A  year  of  sad  events, 
Marked  on  the  page  of  destiny 

By  the  hand  that  ne'er  relents. 

Indelible  the  hand  of  time 

Writes  pages  dread  and  drear  ; 

Earth's  disasters,  death  and  crime 
That  mark  the  present  year. 

Wondrous  are  the  powers  that  shake 

The  centre  of  the  earth  ; 
Powers  before  unknown  awake 

New  forces  into  birth. 

Belching  forth  from  fiery  mount, 

Spread  disaster,  death  ; 
Tales  of  horror  will  recount 

Its  devastating  breath. 

The  warring  elements  have  spent 
Their  force  on  land  and  sea  ; 


52  1883. 

And  many  lives  by  them  were  sent 
Into  eternity. 

Terrors  reign  not  known  before, 
Swept  broadcast  o'er  the  land  ; 

And  hearts  went  up  to  God  in  prayer 
To  stay  the  scourging  hand. 

The  year's  events  in  history 
Stand  out  on  every  page  ; 

And  eighteen  hundred  eighty-three 
Is  the  wonder  of  the  age. 


To  a  Lady  Friend. 

O  Time,  how  lightly  hast  thou  laid 
Thy  hand  upon  her  brow  ! 

She  to  the  needy  lends  her  aid  ; 
She's  true  to  her  marriage  vow. 

Although  her  head  is  silvered  o'er, 
There's  beauty  and  there's  grace, 

And  wisdom  also  there  in  store, 
That  time  cannot  efface. 

Her  children  also  call  her  blest ; 

She  guides  their  steps  aright  ; 
They  heed  her  counsel  and  behest, 

To  walk  by  wisdom's  light. 

Her  bark  of  life  glides  smoothly  on, 

In  age  as  well  as  youth  ; 
She's  earned  herself  a  golden  crown 

Of  purity  and  truth. 

Yes,  her  bark  will  still  glide  on, 
As  smoothly  now  as  then  ; 


54  TO  A  LADY  FRIEND. 

For  she  a  golden  crown  has  won 
At  three  score  years  and  ten. 

And  when  the  bark  with  snowy  sail 
Shall  come  to  bear  her  o'er, 

A  crown  of  glory  she'll  not  fail 
To  wear  forevermore. 


On  the  Death  of  a  Friend. 

One  of  earth's  faithful  sons  has  gone 

To  the  other  shore  ; 
His  years  were  many,  long  they  run, 

Of  near  four  score. 

Like  the  autumn  fruit  he  fell, 

In  spirit  ripe  ; 
In  the  joys  of  heaven  to  dwell, — 

True  life  a  type. 

From  loved  ones  he  was  called  away, 

Full  of  years  ; 
While  they  with  sorrowing  hearts  must  stay, 

Full  of  tears. 

The  Savior  to  his  spirit  said  : 

"  O  come  with  me  : 
No  longer  to  the  earth  be  wed, 

Come  and  be  free." 

He  clasps  the  Savior's  loving  hand, 
Heavenward  bound  ; 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  FRIEND. 

He'll  on  the  shore  celestial  stand, 
With  loved  ones  found. 

On  his  brow  a  crown  he'll  wear 

Of  righteousness  ; 
And  evermore  in  heaven  will  share 

Eternal  bliss. 

The  victory  o'er  the  grave  is  won, 

For  't  is  his  gain; 
He  hears  the  welcome  said  :  "Well  done  I 

Come  enter  in." 


O  Time! 

Thy  march  we  count  by  rolling  years  ; 
They  bring  us  joy,  they  bring  us  tears  ; 
They  also  bring  into  the  light 
Knowledge  hid  before  from  sight. 

O  Time  ! 

Thy  hand's  relentless,  stern  and  strong. 
To  thee  great  wisdom  doth  belong  ; 
And  we  from  ages  as  they  roll, 
Learn  nature's  forces  to  control. 

O  Time  ! 

Upon  thy  wheel  of  rolling  years, 
Man  comes,  and  on  it  disappears  ; 
The  noblest  work  of  God  is  man, 
And  yet  his  years  are  but  a  span. 

From  out  the  years  of  centuries  old, 
His  powers  through  ages  did  unfold  ; 
And  when  for  him  the  world  was  ripe, 
He  came  of  highest  life  a  type. 


58  O  TIME  ! 

The  ultimate  of  life  is  man  ; 
That  he  might  live,  the  world  began  ; 
And  hid  within  earth's  bowels  deep, 
Mines  of  wealth  for  him  did  sleep. 

That  man  must  seek  if  he  would  find, 
Is  not  alone  said  of  the  mind  ; 
For  by  effort,  strength  and  will, 
He  must  the  laws  of  life  fulfil. 

The  laws  of  life  show  wisdom  great ; 
There  is  no  power  that  men  call  fate  ; 
For  each  demands  a  full  supply, 
But  he  must  on  his  powers  rely. 

His  powers  were  given  to  unfold  ; — 
He's  possibilities  untold  ; 
Not  time,  but  eternity,  will  tell 
The  powers  that  in  the  spirit  dwell. 

The  spirit  is  released  from  earth 
By  passing  through  the  second  birth  ; 
And  time  no  longer  can  control 
The  aspirations  of  the  soul. 

Endless  is  the  life  of  man  ; 
Yet  still  on  earth  it  first  began  ; 
Reaching  on  beyond  the  shore, 
Still  on  when  time  shall  be  no  more. 


The  Reaper  Death. 

O  reaper  Death,  thy  busy  hand 
Takes  young  and  old  from  off  the  land, 
And  enters  cot  or  palace  hall ; 
Before  thee  all  alike  must  fall. 

O  reaper  Death,  thy  field  is  wide  ; 
The  hand  of  God  thy  footsteps  guide  ; 
So  when  thou  takest  from  us  our  friends, 
We  know  love  with  affliction  blends. 

When  thy  field  is  finished  o'er, 
And  thou  hast  gathered  up  thy  store, 
No  parting  then  from  loved  and  dear, 
No  more  we'll  wipe  the  falling  tear. 

O  reaper,  when  thy  powers  are  stayed, — 
Thy  hand  no  longer  wields  the  blade, — 
The  reign  of  peace  will  then  begin, 
Free  from  the  slavery  of  sin. 


Address  to  the  Moon. 

O  glorious  orb  of  silver  light, 
A  queen  of  beauty  to  our  sight, 
As  we  behold  thy  course  above, 
We  feel  thy  Maker's  name  is  Love. 

Thou  beaming  orb  of  mellow  light, 
O  do  not  soar  away  from  sight, 
For  by  thy  light  true  lovers  talk, 
And  in  thy  beams  the  .sorrowing  walk. 

Thou  seem'st  a  ball  of  burnished  gold, 
Yet  thou  wast  never  bought  nor  sold  ; 
And  as  thy  rays  come  through  the  pane, 
We  wish  that  thou  would'st  never  wane. 

0  do  not  go  away  so  soon, 

For  how  we  love  the  dear  old  moon  ! 

1  pray,  O  tell  us,  if  you  can, 

From  whence  does  come  that  face  of  man. 

Her  gentle  beams  seem  stealing  in 
To  dens  of  vice  to  rebuke  sin  ; 


ADDRESS  TO. THE  MOON.  61 

And  those  who  love  to  do  the  wrong, 
They  call  her  mellow  light  too  strong. 

She  peers  in  sleeping  faces  fair, 
As  if  she  their  bright  dreams  would  share i 
Her  beams  shine  on  the  cottage  door, 
To  bless  the  hearts  of  meek  and  poor. 

She  gives  a  beauty  to  this  earth, 
And  brings  to  all  their  hours  of  mirth  ; 
For  the  impartial  moonbeams  fall 
Alike  a  blessing  to  us  all. 


Upward  and  Onward. 

He  who  would  climb  the  heights  of  thought, 

And  drink  at  wisdom's  fount, 
Must  to  life's  bitter  cup  be  brought — 

On  vanquished  evils  mount. 

Sage  and  seer  in  days  of  old 

Were  scourged  by  fire  and  flood, 

And  all  the  ages  of  the  world 
Are  wet  with  martyrs'  blood. 

The  great  Refiner's  hand  would  draw 

The  dross  from  out  the  gold  ; 
The  crucible  is  nature's  law, 

To  purify  the  world. 

As  you  climb  the  rugged  heights, 
Where  thought  and  wisdom  meet, 

The  dross  that  in  your  path  alights, 
Tread  beneath  your  feet. 

It  forms  for  you  a  stepping-stone 
On  which  you  upward  rise  ; 


UPWARD  AND   ONWARD.  63 

A  solid  rock  to  build  upon, 

When  you  have  gained  the  prize. 

When  on  the  heights  at  last  you  stand, 
Cleansed  from  the  dross  of  time, 

Inspiration  pure  and  grand 
Will  give  you  truth  sublime. 

With  its  fiery  tongue  of  flame, 
It  comes  with  scathing  breath  ; 

The  bigot's  pride  it  puts  to  shame, 
And  sin  to  endless  death. 

It  comes  through  nature's  subtle  law, 

Like  a  consuming  fire  ; 
All  truth  is  pure,  in  it  no  flaw, 

It  will  the  soul  inspire. 

O  ye  discoverer  of  a  truth, 

But  give  it  to  the  world  ; 
Be  it  in  age  or  yet  in  youth, 

It  covet  more  than  gold. 

O  mortal  man,  do  you  not  know 

It  says  to  do  good  deeds 
Will  cleanse  the  spirit  white  as  snow, 

And  upward,  onward  leads  ? 


64  UPWARD    AND  ONWARD. 

Then  shall  we  by  this  truth  abide, 
And  help  our  brother  rise  ? 

Or  pass  him  by  on  the  other  side, 
And  care  not  if  he  dies  ? 

It  speaks  again  this  truth,  to  say 

That  we  are  brothers  all  ; 
Though  they  in  sinful  paths  may  stray, 

No  one  is  past  recall. 

Let  all  give  thanks  to  God  our  king, 
This  truth  is  brought  to  light, 

That  death  has  lost  its  power  and  sting, 
And  faith  is  lost  in  sight. 

It  teaches  that  our  God  is  love, 

And  that  He  sends  to-day 
His  angels  from  the  heights  above, 

To  roll  the  stone  away. 


The  Longings  of  the  Soul. 

O  let  me  live  in  the  realm  of  thought, 
And  pen  them  down  each  day — 

The  words  by  nature's  voices  taught, 
What  to  my  soul  they  say. 

O  give  me  wings  that  I  may  soar 
Away  through  the  realms  of  space, 

To  catch  the  beauties  there  that  pour 
Down  from  the  Throne  of  Grace. 

The  spirit,  like  the  plant  or  flower, 

Turns  ever  to  the  light  ; 
The  longings  of  the  soul  have  power 

To  unfold  the  spirit  sight. 

The  longings  of  the  soul  shall  bring 

Unto  our  listening  ears, 
Angel  voices  as  they  sing — 

The  music  of  the  spheres. 

The  longings  of  the  soul  will  draw 

Our  loved  ones  to  our  side  ; 
G 


66         THE  LONGINGS  OF  THE  SOUL. 

That  subtle  chain  of  love  and  law 
Even  death  cannot  divide. 

Life's  endless  chain  will  people  link 

In  one  united  band  ; 
Aud  when  we  reach  the  river's  brink, 

An  angel  clasps  the  hand, 

And  guides  us  o'er  death's  waters  dark, 
And  safely  lands  on  shore  ; 

Love  guides  that  softly  gliding  bark  : 
Our  longings  then  are  o'er. 

To  the  longings  of  the  soul 
There  is  an  answer  given  ; 

Wisdom  and  love  all  things  control, 
And  longing  souls  find  heaven. 


The  Starry  Firmament. 

Ye  gems  of  scintillating  light, 

That  stud  the  ether  blue, 
What  is  man  that  he  has  sight, 

To  you  with  rapture  view  ? 

Why  is  it  that  above  his  head 

Such  beauty  meets  his  gaze, 
And  on  his  pathway  glory  sheds, 

To  bless  his  earthly  days  ? 

Is  it  alone  for  creature  man, 

Such  grandeur  fills  all  space, 
When  the  days  are  but  a  span 

To  all  the  human  race  ? 

Though  God's  works  are  great  and  grand, 

That  fill  immensity, 
Yet  the  noblest  of  His  hand 

Is  humanity. 

Humanity  is  seeking  long 
From  wisdom's  voice  to  learn 


68  THE  STARRY  FIRMAMENT. 

More  about  the  starry  throng 
That  in  the  heavens  burn. 

And  from  the  glowing  pages  pour 

Upon  the  soul  of  man, 
Inspiring  thought,  to  higher  soar, 

And  heaven's  domain  to  scan. 

Into  the  starry  depths  of  space 
He  peers  with  searching  eye, 

And  with  advancing  thought,  keeps  pace 
With  the  nineteenth  century. 

Like  a  scroll  the  heavens  unfold 

Wonders  grand  and  new  ; 
He  gathers  knowledge  there  enrolled, 

That  brings  new  worlds  to  view. 

Still  more  and  more  man  seeks  to  know, 
While  progress  points  the  way  ; 

And  wisdom  in  its  onward  flow 
His  efforts  will  repay. 

So  man  is  working  ever  on, 

Toward  a  shining  goal  ; 
A  pedestal  he  builds  beyond, 

For  the  human  soul. 


Progression. 

The  law  of  progression 

Is  lawful  ascension  ; 
If  we  only  look  we  can  see 

That  all  things  move  onward  ; 

Nothing  moves  backward  ; 
Everything  higher  must  be. 

So  then  as  we  learn 

We  nothing  should  spurn, 

For  it's  little  by  little  we  grow, 
Many  things  yet  remain 
To  be  made  clear  and  plain  ; 

It's  upward  and  onward  to  go. 

As  upward  we  climb, 

One  round  at  a  time, 
On  the  ladder  that  reaches  above, 

Do  you  ask  why 

That  we  all  should  try 
When  it  reaches  where  all  is  pure  love  ? 


70  PROGRESSION. 

Do  not  aspire, 

Neither  desire 
To  reach  to  the  top  at  a  bound  ; 

Slowly  to  rise 

Is  the  way  to  be  wise, 
And  firmly  to  stand  on  each  round. 

As  we  ascend  higher, 

If  we  ask  in  our  prayer 
For  angels  to  come  to  our  aid, 

They'll  help  us  to  rise 

Even  up  to  the  skies  ; 
We'll  wonder  at  the  strides  we  have  made. 

Then  let  us  be  wise, 

And  open  our  eyes, 
And  see  if  the  top  we  can 'gain  ; 

The  way  it  is  clear, 

Let  all  the  world  hear, 
If  they  knew  they'd  no  longer  remain. 

0  mortal  do  not, 

1  pray  you,  forget 

That  the  ladder  rests  on  the  ground  ; 

It  never  can  be 

That  the  top  we  can  see, 
For  it  reaches  up  round  above  round. 


PROGRESSION.  71 

It  reaches  afar, 

Where  a  golden  star 
Shines  in  glory  and  beauty  and  light ; 

It  shines  for  us  there 

To  light  up  that  stair, 
And  it  fills  us  with  joy  and  delight. 

Still  on  and  on, 

Ever  and  beyond, 
So  light  there's  no  need  of  a  sun  ; 

And  angels  so  pure, 

Yet  we  all  may  be  sure 
That  we  to  such  height  shall  attain. 


Love. 

Love  is  the  music  of  the  soul, 

The  power  which  holds  o'er  all  control  ; 

The  magic  key  that  finds  within 

The  spark  divine,  though  dead  in  sin. 

It  is  the  motive-power  of  life  ; 
It  causes  tragedy  and  strife  ; 
It  reaches  on  beyond  the  grave, 
And  the  human  soul  doth  save. 

A  silken  cord  of  texture  fine 
Round  the  hearts  of  lovers  twine  ; 
The  sacred  marriage  knot  it  ties, 
The  power  to  sever  it  defies. 

Around  the  family  altar  weaves 
Sacred  ties  of  golden  sheaves  ; 
From  the  destroying  hand  secure, 
No  blight  can  enter,  all  is  pure. 

A  love  so  pure  forgives  all  wrong ; 
Comes  from  angel  voice  and  song  ; 


LOVE.  73 

That  deals  alike  with  friend  or  foe  : 
Such  is  the  love  that  angels  know. 

It  reaches  to  the  earthly  plane, 
And  helps  the  fallen  rise  again  ; 
And  whispers  to  the  soul  within 
Of  joys  immortal  it  shall  win. 

The  great  First  Cause  is  Love  supreme, 
And  on  the  earth  sends  forth  a  gleam 
That  lights  the  path  where  angels  tread 
Back  from  the  portals  of  the  dead. 

Whisperings  from  the  heavenly  sphere 
Come  to  the  longing,  waiting  ear, 
And  messengers  are  sent  below, 
To  lift  the  weight  of  care  and  woe. 

The  earthly  and  the  heavenly  shore 
Are  by  love's  messengers  bridged  o'er  ; 
And  on  beyond  we  see  afar, 
For  widely  stands  the  gate  ajar. 

And  when  the  summons  comes  to  go, 
An  angel  whispers  soft  and  low, 
"  Come  to  your  happy  home  above, 
And  live  in  the  atmosphere  of  love." 


74 


LOVE. 


It  is  the  power  that  fills  all  space  ; 
It  is  the  power  of  truth  and  grace, 
And  draws  together  every  soul, 
And  saves  the  vast,  the  mighty  whole. 


Life  Beyond. 

Eternal  joys  await  the  soul 
When  free  from  form  of  clay  ; 

The  human  spirit,  like  a  scroll, 
Unfolds  from  day  to  day. 

By  progression's  law  doth  rise, 

Bright,  exultant,  free ; 
Its  unfolding  power  doth  prize 

In  humble  ecstasy. 

Pure  and  grand  it  rises  still, 

Toward  a  shining  goal 
Where  the  power  of  love  at  will 

Holds  o'er  all  control. 

Helpfulness  to  those  below, 
To  guide  their  upward  way  ; 

Upon  their  pathway  sends  a  glow, 
Lest  they  should  go  astray. 

And  by  God's  law  progressive  taught, 
His  children  must  obey, 


76  LIFE  BEYOND. 

Ere  they  can  reach  the  goal  they  sought, 
Or  bask  in  endless  day. 

O  bright  summerland  of  song, 
Home  of  the  pure  and  blest, 

Where  the  spirit,  toiling  long, 
At  last  finds  peace  and  rest ! 

The  spirit  cleansed  and  washed  in  tears, 
As  pure  and  white  as  snow, 

In  that   land  beyond  the  spheres, 
Eternal  joys  shall  know. 

All  in  the  summerland  who  dwell, 
Have  felt  love's  chastening  rod, 

And  have  humbly  said  :  "  'T  is  well, 
It  is  the  hand  of  God." 

The  life  beyond,  within  the  veil, 

The  river  runs  of  life, 
And  on  its  bosom  glides  a  sail 

Away  from  storm  and  strife. 

The  placid  waters,  smooth  and  grand, 
Were  stilled  by  powers  of  will 

By  Him  who  to  them  gave  command, 
And  bade  them  "Peace,  be  still  !" 


LIFE  BEYOND.  77 

And  o'er  the  scene  there  flows  a  light 

Of  soft  and  mellow  hue, 
And  gives  th'  enraptured  spirit  sight 

A  most  enchanting  view. 

Along  its  banks  the  flowers  grow 

Amid  the  angel  throng, 
Where  waves  of  music  ebb  and  flow 

From  angel  voice  and  song. 

Yes,  in  the  glorious  sumnierland, 

Basking  in  its  bowers, 
With  white-robed  angels  hand  in  hand, 

We'll  pluck  immortal  flowers. 

Land  of  beauty,  where  the  rose 

Lives  in  undying  bloom, 
And  souls  in  fragrance  there  repose, 

Beyond  the  dreaded  tomb. 


On  the  Death  of  a  Child. 

A  little  bud  has  gone  to  bloom 
Beyond  the  portals  of  the  tomb, 
In  a  purer,  balmier  air, 
A  flower  more  beautiful  and  fair. 

Budding  on  the  earth  and  gone. 
Still  unfolding  on  and  on, 
In  a  more  congenial  sky  ; 
Hush,  O  hush  the  heaving  sigh  ! 

And  wipe  the  tear  that  fain  would  flow 
In  such  agony  of  woe ; 
Your  darling  child  is  living  still, 
The  mission  of  her  life  to  fill. 

The  angel  Death  has  borne  her  o'er, 
And  safely  landed  her  on  shore  ; 
Her  little  hands,  so  pure  and  white, 
Hold  for  you  a  guiding  light. 

A  light  that  shines  by  night  and  day, 
A  glorious,  never-fading  ray, 
And  is  beckoning  you  to  come 
To  that  bright,  that  happy  home. 


Inspiration. 

O  thou  grand  electric  flow, 

Thy  fires  are  lit  and  all  aglow, 

And  on  the  golden  wings  of  thought 

Bring  truths  that  men  in  vain  have  sought. 

And  by  thy  penetrating  fire, 
Searches  out  all  wrong  desire, 
And  guides  the  feet  of  wayward  youth 
Into  the  higher  sphere  of  truth. 

Thy  power  is  felt  o'er  all  the  land  ; 
Thy  flood  of  light  is  pure  and  grand, 
And  helps  the  fallen  sinner  rise, 
And  upward  lifts  his  downcast  eyes. 

Thy  voice  is  heard  with  certain  sound, 
Saying  all  are  heavenward  bound  ; 
Breaks  the  fetters  off  the  soul, 
And  gives  aspiring  thought  control. 

By  thy  light  the  spirit  soars 
Away  to  bright  immortal  shores, 
Where  the  fountain's  living  light 
Reaches  down  to  mortal  sight. 


80 


INSPIRATION. 


Let  thy  power,  O  Inspiration, 
Fall  on  every  race  and  nation  ; 
Thy  voice  be  heard  on  land  and  sea  ; 
All  people  be  by  truth  made  free. 


On  the  Death  of  a  Friend. 

His  work  on  earth  is  done,  and  well  ; 
Like  the  ripened  fruit  he  fell  ; 
His  spirit,  by  God's  wise  decree, 
Has  passed  into  eternity. 

His  spirit  slowly  loosed  its  hold, 
And  left  the  body  dead  and  cold  ; 
But  the  spirit,  living  on, 
With  garments  new  is  clothed  upon. 

The  angel  Death  was  sent  in  love, 
And  bore  him  to  his  home  above, 
And  o'er  his  loved  ones  watch  will  keep, 
To  them  is  speaking  :  "  Do  not  weep  !" 

He's  passed  within  the  golden  gate  ; 
At  the  portal  he  will  wait, 
With  longing  heart  and  listening  ear, 
The  coming  of  their  feet  to  hear. 

He  holds  uplifted  in  his  hand, 
A  light  by  angel  fingers  fanned, 


82  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  FRIEND. 

Beaming  through  the  gates  ajar, 
To  his  own  a  guiding-star. 

It  falls  upon  their  path  below, 
A  promise  like  the  arching  bow  ; 
No  more  are  floods  of  falling  tears, 
Dispelled  are  all  their  doubts  and  fears. 

O,  weeping  one,  look  up  and  see 
That  bow  of  promise  over  thee, 
Reflected  through  the  tears  you  shed 
O'er  the  body  of  your  dead. 

A  promise  that  you'll  meet  above 
The  one  on  earth  you  learned  to  love, 
And  with  him  share  new  joys  untold 
Within  the  loving  Father's  fold. 

The  spirit  knows  no  chain  nor  bond  ; 
Freedom  is  on  the  shore  beyond  ; 
And  while  eternity  shall  roll, 
Still  will  unfold  the  human  soul. 


Written  while  President  Garfield  was  Hov 
ering  between  Life  and  Death. 

O  God  of  nations,  to  Thee  we  cry  ! 
We  know  that  Thy  all-seeing  eye 
Is  on  the  nation's  welfare  bent, 
Be  it  life  or  death  for  the  President. 

Around  his  couch  with  anxious  fear, 
Those  faithful  friends  they  hover  near, 
That  loving  mother  and  that  wife 
Yet  hope  to  save  his  precious  life. 

A  life  of  purity  sublime, 

Stricken  down  in  manhood's  prime  ; 

A  devoted  husband,  son, 

The  nation's  highest  gift  had  won. 

If  he  from  off  that  couch  of  pain 
Should  never  rise  to  health  again, 
On  his  brow  a  crown  he'll  bear, 
Yet  not  such  crowns  as  monarchs  wear. 

For  woven  in  that  crown  of  gold 
The  threads  of  sympathy  behold  ; 


84  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 

The  jewels  in  that  crown  are  set 
Are  a  nation's  tears,  love  and  regret. 

The  nation  now  sends  forth  a  prayer 
That  in  that  Presidential  chair 
He'll  sit,  and  wield  a  power  for  good  ; 
O  bend  Thine  ear,  Almighty  God  ! 


On  the  Death  of  the  President. 

The  President  is  dead  !  they  cry  ; 
Even  on  the  breezes  floats  a  sigh  ; 
The  nation's  heart  is  bleeding,  rent, 
For  our  loved  and  honored  President. 

Gloom  like  a  pall  has  overspread 
The  earth  with  darkness  and  with  dread 
O  may  the  fires  that  caused  that  blow 
Be  quenched  by  love's  increasing  flow. 

O  God  !  but  send  a  healing  balm, 
Those  loving,  aching  hearts  to  calm  ; 
And  send  down  from  thy  realm  above, 
An  angel  messenger  of  love. 

O  send  the  pure  white  dove  of  peace, 
So  that  all  bitter  strife  may  cease  ; 
The  darkened  souls  find  truth  and  light, 
And  guide  them  in  the  path  of  right. 

May  he  who  fills  that  vacant  chair, 
Wield  a  power  for  good  while  there. 
O  God  !  but  lay  Thine  hand  upon 
The  affairs  of  state  at  Washington  ! 


Christmas  Time. 

Christmas  time  ! 

O  hear  the  chime 
As  it  on  the  breezes  floats  ; 

It  is  the  morn 

That  Christ  was  born, 
Joyous  are  its  notes. 

With  voices  free 

O  sing  with  glee, 
And  celebrate  His  birth  ; 

He  like  a  dove 

Came  from  above, 
And  brought  the  truth  to  earth. 

Bethlehem's  star 

Is  not  afar  ; 
Look  up,  't  will  meet  your  gaze 

It  's  shining  there 

On  the  golden  stair, 
With  glory  all  ablaze. 


CHRISTMAS  TIME.  87 

Bethlehem's  star 

Is  not  afar, 
It  came  the  world  to  save  ; 

The  golden  stair 

Ascending  there 
Is  resting  on  the  grave. 

That  blazing  star 

Is  the  gate  ajar  ; 
O  mortal,  dry  your  tears, 

For  it's  been  fanned 

By  an  angel  hand 
For  eighteen  hundred  years. 


To  an  Editress. 

VOICE  OF  THE  ANGELS. 

Hear  the  voice  of  angels  speaking 

A  welcome  unto  thee  ; 
New  workers  in  their  cause  are  seeking 

For  truth  and  liberty. 

Star  of  progress,  star  of  freedom, 

Welcome,  welcome,  thrice  ! 
May  angels  from  the  heavenly  kingdom 

Bring  you  strength  and  peace. 

Like  the  true  and  earnest  worker, 
Who  has  given  up  her  charge, 

May  you  faithful  be  nor  falter, 
And  your  field  of  work  enlarge. 

Working  in  the  Master's  vineyard, 
In  the  cause  of  truth  and  right, 

May  your  spirit,  rising  heavenward, 
Draw  to  earth  the  purest  light. 

Like  your  noble  predecessor, 
Do  the  work  that  angels  bid, 


TO  AN  EDITRESS.  89 


With  high-wrought  courage  and  endeavor, 
That  your  light  may  not  be  hid. 

To  the  voice  of  angels  harken, 
As  they  speak  in  gladsome  tones ; 

They  who  sleep  in  darkness  waken — 
They  may  wear  immortal  crowns. 


O  voice  of  angels,  world-wide  sounding 

O'er  mountain,  hill  and  dale, 
With  news  of  life  beyond  abounding, 

Of  that  life  within  the  veil  ! 

"  Within  the  veil  ?"     Ah  no,  O  mortal, 

For  the  veil  ifs  rent  in  twain  ; 
Those  who  have  passed  beyond  death's  portal 

May  return  to  earth  again. 

"O  hear  our  voices,  singing,  singing, 
To  earth's  children  drawing  near  ; 

Our  own  dear  loved  ones  we  are  seeking, 
To  wipe  away  the  parting  tear." 

We  ask  that  on  the  "  Voice  "  a  blessing 
May  descend  with  words  of  cheer, 

And  lift  the  care  on  one  that's  resting, 
So  easier  on  her  bark  shall  steer. 


Triumph  of  Truth  over  Error. 

Storm  and  strife  the  waters  stir, 

And  gather  on  their  way 
All  that  would  their  course  deter, 

Or  their  progress  stay. 

Dark  and  murky,  surging  on 
Toward  their  ocean  home, 

Impurities  to  surface  borne, 
Mid  floating  weeds  and  foam. 

After  storms  and  clouds  have  passed, 

The  troubled  waters  rest, 
Their  burdens  to  the  ocean  cast 

That  on  their  bosom  pressed. 

With  widened  channel  deep  below, 

Still  coursing  to  the  sea, 
With  power  increasing  in  their  flow, 

More  pure,  more  grand,  more  free. 

When  storms  and  strifes  in  life  arise, 
It  is  the  same,  we  say ; 


TRIUMPH  OF  TRUTH   OVER  ERROR.  91 

Deeds  that  were  hidden  from  our  eyes, 
Are  brought  to  the  light  of  day. 

Brought  to  the  surface  of  life's  stream, 

By  billows  borne  along, 
Guided  by  the  Hand  Supreme, 

To  cleanse  the  world  from  wrong. 

So  within  the  churches'  fold, 

Dissension,  discontent, 
They  together  cannot  hold, 

For  error's  power  is  spent. 

Truth  silently  will  work  its  way, 
Like  leaven,  through  them  all, 

All  masterful,  before  its  sway 

Even  kings  and  crowns  must  fall. 

Upon  the  surface  of  life's  stream 

All  sin  and  wrong  must  float, 
Borne  along  by  truth's  bright  gleam — 

God  pilots  on  the  boat. 

And  in  their  stead  sweet  charity, 

And  love  to  God  and  man, 
While  selfishness  and  bigotry 

Drift  to  oblivion. 


On  the  Burning  of  a  Church. 

I  hear  you  say  :  "  And  is  it  God 

Who  smites  us  with  His  chastening  rod?' 

I  hear  you  ask  :  "  Has  Providence 

In  our  midst  folind  some  offense  ? 

"  And  in  His  own  mysterious  way 
We  a  sacrifice  must  lay 
Upon  His  altar  ?     By  it,  't  is  said, 
The  fire  that  purifies  is  fed. 

"  And  did  He  see  therein  a  flaw 
He  must  consume  by  natural  law  ? 
And  purify  even  as  by  fire, 
To  lift  the  spirit  ever  higher  ?" 

Alone  by  sacrifice  we  rise  ; 
All  worldly  selfishness  then  dies  ; 
It  forms  for  us  a  stepping-stone, 
To  lift  the  spirit  higher  on. 

Though  consumed,  yet  nothing  lost, 
When  you  rightly  count  the  cost, 


ON   THE  BURNING  OF  A  CHURCH.  93 

For  on  the  ashes,  towering  high, 
Build  a  structure  flames  defy. 

By  the  hand  of  wisdom  skilled, 
On  the  rock  of  truth  so  build, 
Though  error's  flood  be  deep  and  wide, 
It  shall  resist  its  flowing  tide. 

Love  to  God  and  love  to  man 
Be  in  your  foundation  plan  ; 
Let  charity,  like  heaven's  dews, 
Cover  all  opposing  views. 

Let  its  walls  be  gilded  o'er 

With  the  love  the  Savior  bore  ; 

When  on  the  cross  they  nailed  Him  high, 

"  Forgive  them  !"  was  His  dying  cry. 

And  your  platform  shall  I  speak  ? 
Be  freedom  for  the  truth  to  seek  ; 
Use  no  creed  within  its  walls, 
Lest  again  the  structure  falls. 

On  ashes  of  the  first  I  see 
A  structure  built  for  liberty  ; 
Let  all  creeds  to  ashes  burn  ; 
Truth  is  carved  on  rock  and  stone. 


94        ON  THE  BURNING  OF  A  CHURCH. 

Inscribe  upon  your  banner  high  : 
"  Eternal  truth  can  never  die  !" 
Though  assailed  by  fire  or  flood,. 
Truth  is  nature,  truth  is  God  ! 


Crumbs. 

Treasure  up  the  crumbs  let  fall 
By  those  who've  drank  their  cup  of  gall  ; 
Crumbs  of  wisdom,  pure  and  grand, 
Scattered  by  affliction's  hand. 

Crumbs  that  fall  from  sage  and  seer, 
Make  the  path  to  knowledge  clear  ; 
Gather  up  and  treasure  well 
Crumbs  that  from  the  noblest  fell. 

From  a  Christ,  or  from  a  Paul, 
Crumbs  are  scattered  free  for  all  ; 
So  gather  in  and  store  the  mind, 
And  scatter  crumbs  that  others  find. 

Crumbs  upon  the  waters  cast  : 
They  shall  return  to  you  at  last, 
Showered  in  blessings  on  your  heads, 
By  Him  who  searches  ocean  beds. 

Scatter  kindness,  kindly  words 
Along  the  by-ways  and  the  roads  ; 


96  CRUMBS. 

Such  are  treasured  up  on  high, 
To  bless  the  giver  by-and-by. 

For  the  hungering  spirit's  good, 
Scatter  crumbs  of  daily  food  ; 
So  the  spirit,  strong  in  power, 
Rises  heavenward  every  hour. 

Crumbs  of  selfishness  and  greed 
Leave  the  soul  in  want  and  need  ; 
And  those  man  gathers  up  at  last 
Are  the  crumbs  himself  hath  cast. 


On  the  Whittier  Quill  Pen. 

By  the  power  of  brain  and  will, 
A  pen  invented  from  the  quill, 
Of  old-time  usefulness  and  fame, 
Is  linked  with  noble  "VVhittier's  name. 

With  easy  grace  and  ready  flow, 
It  leaves  on  pages  thoughts  that  glow, 
From  the  brain  of  seer  and  sage, 
That  mark  the  progress  of  the  age. 

The  quill  then  let  the  poets  choose; 
Its  strokes  o'ertake  th'  escaping  muse, 
And  for  the  Whittier  pen  it  cries, 
If  poets  to  his  fame  would  rise. 

America's  most  noble  son, 
His  fame  will  last  while  ages  run  ; 
So  dedicate  to  worth  and  fame 
A  eulogy  on  Whittier's  name. 

Poems  flowing  from  his  pen 

Are  written  in  the  hearts  of  men  ; 


98  ON  THE  WHITTIER  QUILL  PEN. 

So  lines  that  know  no  peace  nor  calm, 
They  bring  a  healing,  soothing  balm. 

We'll  write  our  poems,  essays  too, 
With  the  pen  so  old  yet  new  ; 
Around  it  like  a  magic  spell, 
The  name  of  Whittier  weaves  it  welL 


Star  of  Progression. 

Progressive  thought  steals  o'er  the  land  ; 

A  risen  star  I  see, 
Lighted  by  an  angel  hand, 

To  guide  humanity. 

A  pioneer  for  truth  and  right, 
Its  progress  nought  can  stay  ; 

Before  its  rays  of  wisdom's  light 
All  errors  flee  away. 

Before  its  light  all  creeds  must  fall, 

And  superstition's  reign 
No  longer  can  the  mind  enthrall, 

Or  freedom's  cause  restrain. 

Star  of  progress,  in  thine  eye 

The  light  of  angels  shine, 
And  all  the  evil  powers  defy — 

It  is  a  light  divine. 

A  beacon  light  the  soul  to  guide 
On  its  upward  way  j 


100  STAR  OF  PROGRESSION. 

It  draws  the  angels  to  its  side, 
Attracted  by  its  ray. 

And  while  the  years  still  onward  roll, 
Progression's  star  shines  on, 

Until  all  chains  that  bind  the  soul 
Are  severed  one  by  one. 

The  spirit  then  will  upward  rise 

By  progression's  light  ; 
The  scales  will  fall  from  blinded  eyes, 

That  once  obscured  their  sight. 

Before  its  light  the  shadows  flee, 

That  rested  on  the  grave  ; 
Our  loved  ones  through  the  door  we  see, 

That  to  death's  arms  we  gave. 

In  progression's  march  it  brings 
A  light  from  the  other  shore, 

With  healing  on  its  angel  wings, 
That  bleeding  hearts  restore. 

O  beaming  star  !  shine  on  and  on, 
Through  clouds  of  darkest  night, 

Until  all  stars  shall  blend  as  one, 
Into  eternal  light. 


STAR  OK  PROGRESSION. 


101 


Yes,  progression's  star,  beam  on, 
Increasing  day  by  day, 

Until  its  brightness,  like  the  sun, 
Shall  clear  all  clouds  away. 


Hope. 

Thou  star  of  hope,  through  thy  soft  beams 
The  future  laden  comes  in  dreams  ; 
Thou  peerest  through  the  darkest  cloud, 
And  lift'st  the  heart  with  sorrow  bowed. 

And  but  for  thee,  O  star  of  hope, 
The  spirit  would  in  darkness  grope ; 
Thy  light  rests  on  the  brow  of  care, 
When  on  the  verge  of  dark  despair. 

O  but  for  thee,  all  life  a  blank, 
Into  the  darkest  depths  had  sank  ; 
But  thy  light  gives  power  and  strength 
To  work  life's  problem  out  at  length. 

Reflected  from  immortal  shores, 
Thy  light  upon  the  spirit  pours  ; 
Across  thy  way  no  block  can  bar, 
The  spirit  sees  the  gate  ajar. 

Thy  beams  from  lands  celestial  blend 
With  the  love  that  angels  send 


HOPE.  103 

To  mortals  on  the  earthly  plane, 
Singing  in  a  sweet  refrain. 

Thou  art  an  anchor  sure  and  true, 
That  the  spirit  keeps  in  view, 
And  steadfast  on  that  golden  strand, 
When  its  work  is  done,  shall  land. 

Yes,  land  softly  on  the  shore, 
Where  thy  wings  were  wont  to  soar, 
And  blended  in  eternal  light, 
In  glad  fruition  lost  to  sight. 


The  Spirit  of  Flowers. 

The  perfume  of  flowers  is  wafted 

Away  on  the  passing  air  ; 
Their  spirit  has  also  departed, 

Decay  is  alone  left  there. 

The  life  of  the  spirit  draws  essence 
From  the  aura  of  beautiful  flowers  ; 

Is  gathered  by  angel  presence, 
And  borne  to  immortal  bowers. 

Sweet  emanations  from  nature, 

The  goodness  of  God  doth  bestow  ; 

The  power  of  the  spirit  doth  nurture 
When  returning  to  mortals  below. 

The  life  of  the  spirit  ethereal, 

By  their  breath  is  quickened,  we  say  ; 
Belongs  to  the  life  immortal, 

Not  touched  by  the  hand  of  decay. 

Borne  away  on  the  breezes, 

Where  flowers  are  ever  in  bloom, 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  FLOWERS. 

And  the  spirit,  rejoicing,  reposes 
Mid  fragrance  of  richest  perfume. 

Flowers  that  need  no  darkness, 
Flowers  that  need  no  night, 

But  only  the  glory  and  brightness 
Of  the  rays  of  eternal  light. 


105 


To  a  Lady, 

WHOSE    LIFE    IS    COMPARED    TO    THE    AEOLIAN    HARP. 

The  touch  of  the  gentle  zephyr 

Awakes  /Eolian  strings, 
To  music  borne  forever 

On  its  vibrating  wings. 

Her  spirit  tuned  by  nature 

To  sing  love's  symphony, 
At  the  touch  of  the  angel  finger 

Vibrates  in  harmony. 

Music  in  every  fibre, 

Music  in  every  nerve, 
Wafted  on  forever 

On  angel  wings  of  love. 

Tuned  by  angel  fingers 

To  melody  of  soul, 
It  in  her  spirit  lingers, 

And  of  her  has  control. 


TO  A   LADY.  107 

Here,  the  winds  too  harshly 

Swept  across  its  strings  ; 
Of  the  earth  too  earthly, 

Folded  were  its  wings. 

Free  as  the  evening  zephyr, 

Wafted  on  through  space, 
Her  spirit  will  forever 

Sing  notes  of  love  and  grace. 

And  in  her  home  in  glory, 
Will  sweep  o'er  her  pure  soul, 

The  anthems  of  the  Holy, 
While  eternity  shall  roll. 


Memory. 

Backward  !     Forward  ! 

Like  an  armied  host, 
Stalks  no  traitor,  coward, 

Who  would  desert  his  post. 

Backward  !     Forward  ! 

Through  the  dreamy  past, 
Ever  facing  toward 

The  dreams  that  youth  has  cast. 

Lifting  !     Shifting  ! 

Swift  the  shadows  play, 
Together  are  uniting 

The  past  and  present  day. 

Warning  !     Longing  ! 

Each  in  turn  flit  by, 
The  voice  of  memory  calling 

From  the  heart  a  sigh. 

Joyful  !     Regretful  ! 

Come  waves  of  light  and  shade  ; 


MEMORY. 

In  all  nature  still  most  needful, 
Of  every  phase  and  grade. 

Darkly,  lightly, 

The  shades  of  life  may  fall  ; 
Yet  above  shine  brightly 

Beams  of  love  o'er  all. 


109 


To  my  Sister. 

Your  path  has  in  it  many  windings  ; 
Above,  dark  clouds,  yet  silver  linings  ; 
Storms  will  pass,  and  clouds  of  sorrow  ; 
Joy  come  with  the  dawning  morrow. 

Evil  powers  may  hold  high  revel ; 
Their  sway  at  times  may  seem  a  marvel  ; 
But  the  Hand  that  holds  the  scales 
Never  in  its  wisdom  fails. 

The  scales  of  justice  weigh  with  caution 
The  motives  of  the  deed  of  action  ; 
Evil  powers  will  flee  away 
Before  the  reign  of  justice's  sway. 

Subdued  the  light  that  comes  thro'  sorrow. 
The  light  of  wisdom  that  you  borrow 
From  its  source,  and  its  sure  flow 
Softens  all  our  worldly  woe. 

Let  the  light,  so  calm  and  restful, 
Enter  in  your  spirit's  portal, 


TO  MY  SISTER.  1  1  1 

Ever  an  abiding  guest, 

Bringing  peace,  and  joy,  and  rest. 

In  your  path  that  lies  before  you, 
I  see  a  light  that  comes  to  show  you 
Angel  feet  that  lead  the  way 
To  a  brighter,  happier  day. 

A  hand  above  you  is  uplifted, 
Upon  your  weary  brow  has  rested  ; 
A  voice  is  speaking,  do  you  hear? 
"The  loved  of  other  days  are  near. 

"  We  know  your  heart  is  aching,  aching  ; 
We  come  to  keep  your  heart  from  breaking 
To  lift  your  burdens  light  and  free, 
We  nearer,  nearer,  come  to  thee. 

"  O  hear  our  voices  softly  sighing, 
There  is  no  death,  there  is  no  dying  ; 
Eternal  life  begins  on  earth, 
And  death  is  but  the  second  birth." 


Voice  of  the  Angels. 

What  is  the  voice  of  the  angels 
Who  come  to  this  earthly  sphere  ? 

They  come  to  teach  us  wisdom, 
That  wrong  may  disappear. 

To  lift  the  low  and  fallen, 
To  take  them  by  the  hand ; 

For  ignorance  and  folly 
Sweep  broadcast  o'er  the  land. 

It  speaks  the  words  of  mercy, 

In  charity's  sweet  name  ; 
For  all  are  God's  own  children  : 

He  loves  them  all  the  same. 

One  voice  comes  from  the  angels, 
Saying  :  "Live  to  do  the  right. 

Good  deeds  are  all  immortal — 
Make  spirit  garments  white." 

O  blessed  voice  of  angels  ! 
'T  is  music  to  our  ears  ; 


VOICE  OF  THE  ANGELS.  113 

Allays  all  earthly  sorrows, 
And  gives  us  joy  for  tears. 

It  is  the  voice  of  loved  ones 

Who  have  gone  on  before  ; 
They  say  that  death's  dark  river 

Is  spanned  from  shore  to  shore. 

They  say  that  we  shall  meet  them, 

And  know  as  we  are  known  ; 
Across  the  dread,  dark  river 

Each  one  shall  know  his  own. 

Again  the  voice  of  the  angels 

Comes  from  the  other  shore, 
And  says  that  life's  immortal — 

We  live,  and  die  no  more. 


To  a  Brother. 

Is  there  no  ray  your  path  to  brighten  ? 
Do  the  shadows,  like  a  curtain, 
Hide  the  sunlight  from  your  path  ? 
Do  you  think  't  is  done  in  wrath  ? 

This  to  you  we  say,  O  brother, 
When  the  shadows  o'er  you  hover, 
Above  the  sun  is  shining  bright, 
And  soon  you'll  see  its  beaming  light. 

When  shadows  dark  before  you  lie, 
Rise  with  a  purpose  new  and  high, 
Tread  upon  and  stamp  them  down  ; 
'T  will  bring  to  you  a  golden  crown. 

With  dark,  grim  shadows  life  is  laden  ; 
They  lift  the  spirit  nearer  heaven  ; 
When  the  clouds  have  cleared  away, 
Brighter  shines  the  heavenly  day. 

The  soul  is  lifted  higher,  higher  : 
It  is  the  great  Refiner's  fire — 


TO  A  BROTHER.  115 

The  separation  of  the  gold 

From  dross  that  would  the  spirit  hold. 

Remember  then,  we  say,  O  brother, 
Though  clouds  and  darkness  o'er  you  hover, 
The  sunlight  and  the  shadows  all 
On  our  lives  as  blessings  fall. 

With  determined  step  and  eye, 
This  be  your  watchword  and  your  cry  : 
"Onward  and  upward  in  the  right, 
Where  shadows  flee  before  the  light  !" 

Radiant  and  pure,  the  spirit  bright 
Sends  forth  its  own  peculiar  light  ; 
No  shade  can  on  the  spirit  fall ; 
A  light  within  expels  them  all. 


Written  on   the  Occasion  of  the  Memorial 
Service  of  President  Garfield. 

The  nation  mourns  the  sad  event, 
The  loss  of  our  loved  President ; 
Our  hearts'  best  tribute  we  would  pay — 
An  offering  on  the  altar  lay. 

To-day  is  set  apart  to  mourn, 

While  his  body  to  the  tomb  is  borne  ; 

The  nation's  face  is  overspread 

With  a  mourning  mantle  for  the  dead. 

O  hark  !  it  comes  as  with  one  voice  : 
"He's  dead  who  was  the  nation's  choice  ! 
Was  stricken  by  th'  assassin's  hand  ; 
A  gloom  is  cast  o'er  all  the  land." 

The  bells  send  forth  a  solemn  peal, 
Which  shows  a  nation's  heart  can  feel ; 
Its  flags  hang  half-mast  to  the  breeze  ; 
A  loss  of  its  support  it  sees. 

"  Yes,  he  is  dead  !"  the  people  say  ; 
It  's  only  spirit  freed  from  clay  ; 


MEMORIAL  SERVICE  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD.    117 

And  with  the  heroes  gone  before, 
He'll  work  to  harmony  restore. 

We  're  passing  through  the  refiner's  fire, 
To  lift  life's  standard  ever  higher  ; 
We  know  Thy  law  is  love,  O  God, 
And  brings  from  seeming  evil  good. 

O  on  that  family  altar  pour 

Such  blessings  as  they  need  this  hour  ; 

And  let  Thine  eye  a  watch  still  keep, 

To  guide  them  through  the  waves  so  deep. 

That  darkened  life  within  his  cell, 
There  's  nought  but  misery  can  dwell ; 
And  through  that  shrinking,  trembling  soul 
Life's  waves  like  surging  billows  roll. 

O  let  the  people  pity  give  ! 
He's  nothing  here  for  which  to  live  ; 
O  let  us  leave  him  with  his  God, 
For  heavy  is  the  chastening  rod. 

O  may  the  people  wisdom  learn 
To  make  the  laws,  and  right  discern  ; 
And  knowledge  be  from  the  fountain  sent 
To  rule  the  affairs  of  government. 


118  MEMORIAL  SERVICE  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 

The  nation  now  sends  forth  a  prayer 
For  him  who  sits  within  that  Chair  ; 
O  give  him  wisdom  in  this  hour 
To  wisely  wield  th'  invested  power. 

And  now,  O  God,  again  we  cry, 
That  Thou  would'st  bend  Thine  ear  and  eye, 
That  the  people  by  Thy  hand  be  led, 
Upon  the  serpent's  head  to  tread. 


Eleven  Days  in  Heaven. 

Seemed  all  the  joys  of  heaven  were  centered 

On  that  lovely,  sacred  spot  ; 
And  in  thankfulness  I  lingered  : 

I  felt  that  God  had  blessed  my  lot. 

I  felt  that  I  had  crossed  the  river, 
For  I  conversed  with  angel  friends  ; 

I  hoped  that  this  might  last  forever, 
For  now  all  earthly  sorrow  ends. 

A  spell  that  seemed  a  dream  came  o'er  me  ; 

I  thought  I'd  left  the  world  behind, 
And  nought  I  saw  but  heaven  before  me, 

And  ever  increasing  joys  did  find. 

I  felt  that  angel  friends  were  near  me  ; 

For  heaven  we  need  not  look  afar, 
For  those  who  've  gone  on  just  before  me 

The  golden  gates  have  left  ajar. 

I  felt  I  stood  within  the  portal, 

With  glory  shining  round  my  head  ; 


120  ELEVEN  DAYS  IN  HEAVEN. 

An  angel,  who  had  once  been  mortal, 
Spoke  to  me,  and  't  was  thus  she  said  : 

"  To  you  I  say,  O  mortal  being, 
Back  to  earth  ye  must  return, 

And  with  patience  wait  your  coming, 
Till  life  on  earth  shall  cease  to  burn. 

"  For  each  vanquished  ill  lifts  higher 
All  life  in  its  onward  course  ; 

If  more  of  heaven  we  do  desire, 
It  never  can  be  gained  by  force." 

I  listened,  and  in  sadness  turning, 

I  my  steps  did  then  retrace ; 
And  I  said  :   "  I  '11  cease  this  yearning, 

And  learn  the  ills  of  life  to  face. 

"  I  know  there  's  happiness  that  's  real, 
For  I  've  tasted  joys  of  heaven, 

And  they  answer  my  ideal, 

Although  the  days  were  only  eleven. 

"  As  I  again  take  up  life's  duties, 

A  beacon  light  shines  bright  and  clear, 

And  by  that  light  I  see  life's  beauties, 
With  loving  angels  drawing  near. 


ELEVEN  DAYS  IN   HEAVEN. 


121 


"  And  when  this  stormy  life  is  over, 
I  know  I  '11  enter  then  that  heaven 

Then  the  joys  will  be  forever, — 
Endless  days  instead  of  eleven." 


A  Dream. 

O'er  rugged  heights,  o'er  dashing  billows, 
In  churchyards,  under  weeping  willows, 
Thorny  paths  and  bleeding  feet, 
Where  want  and  woe  together  meet — 

I  journey  on,  so  worn  and  weary, 
The  pathway  dark,  and  lone,  and  dreary  ; 
Through  this  sorrowing  vale  of  tears, 
Full  of  doubting,  full  of  fears, 

Pressing  on  beyond  all  doubting, 
Beyond  the  scoffing  and  the  scouting  ; 
Pressing  toward  the  heavenly  gate, 
At  its  portal  longing  wait. 

Knocking  there  to  gain  admittance, 
Angels  then  will  give  assistance, 
Unlock  the  gate  and  lift  the  bar, 
A  little  holds  the  gate  ajar. 

Pressing  onward  through  the  portal, 
Where  ne'er  before  had  passed  a  mortal ; 


A   DREAM.  123 

None  had  passed  within  the  fold, 
Through  the  pearly  gates  of  gold. 

Multitudes  of  beauteous  angels, 
Upon  their  heads  are  crowns  of  jewels, 
More  glittering  and  more  sparkling  bright, 
In  the  glorious  Central  Light. 

Enraptured  with  the  heavenly  vision, 
Beings  of  the  earth's  creation, 
A  voice  then  to  the  mortal  said  : 
"To  the  earth  you  still  are  wed. 

"  We  will  guide  you  through  the  gateway, 
Lead  you  down  the  golden  stairway ; 
The  ills  of  life  must  overcome, 
Before  ascending  to  your  home. 

"  All  that  's  mortal  leave  behind  you  ; 
All  that  to  the  earth  can  bind  you  ; 
On  the  stairway  to  and  fro, 
Free  as  air  you  then  can  go. 

"  We  will  guide  you  through  life's  journey, 
Along  life's  pathway  rough  and  stony, 
Into  paths  where  all  along 
Hear  angel  voices  blend  in  song. 


124  A  DREAM. 

"  Guide  you  to  the  shores  immortal, 
Into  joys  of  life  eternal, 
Where  the  living  fountain  pours 
Down  in  everlasting  showers." 


Deception. 

Like  a  wolf  clad  in  sheep's  clothing, 
Looked  upon  with  dread  and  loathing, 

Is  deception. 

Like  an  abyss  that  yawns  beneath  you, 
Waiting,  threatening  to  engulf  you, 

Is  deception. 

Like  a  serpent,  lurking,  twining 
Round  the  innocent  and  trusting, 

Is  deception. 

A  writhing  worm  that  drinks  the  life-blood, 
Destroying  peace  of  youth  or  girlhood, 

Is  deception. 

Though  naught  so  holy,  naught  so  sacred, 
Yet  true  love  is  turned  to  hatred 

By  deception. 

You  who  would  be  true  and  worthy, 
Who  never  seek  to  gain  by  proxy, 

Use  no  deception. 

When  standing  on  the  shore  immortal, 
Entering  into  life  eternal, 

There's  no  deception. 


126  DECEPTION. 

All  the  deeds  of  life  are  plainly 
Recorded  by  an  angel  daily 

Without  deception. 
Must  be  read  by  him  who  lived  them, 
Though  in  scorn  he  disbelieved  them — 

No  deception. 

The  secrets  of  the  heart  laid  open, 
Where  naught  but  truth  is  ever  spoken. 

No  deception. 

Righteousness  is  then  rewarded  ; 
To  each  his  due  is  then  accorded. 

No  more  deception. 


Supreme  Love. 

Love  is  the  overruling  power 

That  permeates  all  life  ; 
It  's  in  the  plant  and  in  the  flower — 

It  says  we  '11  have  no  strife. 

It  is  the  all-pervading  power 

That  we  are  calling  God  ; 
It  's  in  the  sunshine  and  the  shower 

That  fill  with  life  the  sod. 

It  guides  all  worlds  in  orbits  round, 

As  time  moves  on  apace, 
Revolving  with  no  jar  nor  sound, 

With  wisdom  and  with  grace. 

Love  governs  all  the  works  of  God  : 

His  highest  work  is  man  ; 
Love  holds  o'er  him  the  chastening  rod, 

E'er  since  this  life  began. 

It  holds  for  man  a  sacred  bond, 

His  future  destiny, 
For  on  th'  immortal  shore  beyond 

He  lives  eternally. 


The  Refiner's  Fire. 

That  burning  fire  consumes  the  dross, 

It  will  not  harm  the  gold  ; 
Let  it  burn,  it  is  no  loss 
To  the  churches'  fold. 

Let  it  burst  forth  into  flame, 

For  it  will  sweep  away 
All  hypocrisy  and  shame 

That  before  had  sway. 

Destroy  the  errors,  dogmas,  creeds, 
That  on  its  garments  hung, 

And  clear  away  tradition's  weeds 
That  on  our  ears  are  flung. 

O  let  it  burn,  it  is  the  fire 

That  purifies  the  world  ; 
From  its  ashes,  towering  higher, 

Truth's  banner  is  unfurled. 

'T  is  better;  if  it  smoulder  long, 
It  would  corrupt  the  air, 


THE  REFINER'S  FIRE.  129 

A  plague  spot  bringing  death  among 
The  innocent  and  fair. 

A  whited  sepulchre  without, 
Within  are  dead  men's  bones  ; 

Then  to  their  deafened  ears  O  shout 
God  never  sin  atones. 

In  passing  through  the  Refiner's  fire, 
That  burns  within  each  breast, 

Man  is  lifted  ever  higher 
Into  peace  and  rest. 

'T  is  God's  eternal  law  divine, 

'T  is  His  perfected  plan, 
That  His  reflected  image  shine 

Within  the  soul  of  man. 

So  all  life  is  purified, 

Drawn  higher  still  and  higher, 
Like  Him  who  once  was  crucified, 

Passed  through  the  Refiner's  fire. 


Watchman,  What  of  the  Night  ? 

Do  you  ask  what  of  the  darkness, 

Of  the  night  to  tell  ? 
There  is  no  night,  but  all  is  brightness, 

We  say  that  "All  is  well  !" 

Aching  hearts  are  calling,  calling, 

Will  they  no  answer  hear  ? 
It  comes  like  raindrops,  falling,  falling, 

On  the  listening  ear. 

Hear  the  answer  come,  and  saying, 
"There  are  no  dead — we  live  ! 

And  to  those  whose  hearts  are  aching, 
Joy  untold  we  give." 

O,  ask  no  more,  what  of  the  darkness, 

Nor  what  of  the  night, 
For  angel  hands  with  joy  and  gladness 

Will  lead  you  to  the  light. 

They  come  to  you  your  hearts  to  lighten- 
With  joy  your  eyes  are  wet  : 


WATCHMAN,  WHAT  OF  THE  NIGHT  ?  131 

A  star  that  will  your  pathway  brighten, 
And  never  more  will  set. 

See  the  angels  coming,  coming, 

To  their  loved  of  earth  ; 
They  come  to  hearts  all  torn  and  bleeding — 

To  those  who  gave  them  birth. 

See  the  fathers,  mothers,  coming 

To  their  children  here; 
For  their  hearts  with  love  are  burning, 

They  as  before  are  dear. 

Still  O  see  them  coming,  coming, 

From  the  upper  spheres ; 
On  the  golden  stair  descending 

To  wipe  away  all  tears. 

See  them  coming,  spirits,  angels, 

Clad  in  golden  light  ; 
The  snow-white  wings  of  the  archangels 

With  glory  beaming  bright. 

And  cherubim  and  seraphim — 

O,  listen  !  hear  them  sing 
Of  death — their  triumph  over  him — 

That  death  has  lost  his  sting. 


132  WATCHMAN,  WHAT  OF  THE  NIGHT  ? 

And  through  the  ever-open  door, 

They  are  passing  to  and  fro, 
As  Jacob  saw,  in  days  of  yore — 

0  tell  the  world  't  is  so. 

I  have  an  answer  to  you  given  : 

1  '11  now  go  on  my  way. 

These  truths  I  leave  to  you  as  leaven- 
Thus  I,  the  watchman,  say. 


The  Suicide. 

Clouds  of  darkness  settled  o'er  me, 
So  dense  no  ray  of  light  could  reach  me  ; 
Sighs  and  wailings  rent  the  air, 
Which  filled  my  being  with  despair. 

Surely  God  has  me  forsaken, 
And  my  spirit  ne'er  can  waken 
From  this  agony  and  thrall 
Which  rest  upon  me  like  a  pall. 

Groping,  groping  through  the  darkness, 
Closer,  denser  in  its  blackness, 
Crushing  like  a  mountain  weight, 
Such  before  me  seems  my  fate. 

0  God  !  I  said  in  soul-felt  yearning, 
Let  me  leap  the  flame  that's  burning, 
Though  in  oblivion's  sea  I  fall, 

For  to  the  dregs  I  've  drank  the  gall. 

1  would  escape,  and  leave  behind  me 

The  powers  of  darkness  that  have  bound  me, 


134  THE  SUICIDE. 

Let  mother  nature  claim  her  own, 
My  spirit  drift  to  lands  unknown. 

I  '11  prepare  a  deadly  potion  ! 
Away,  I  say,  away  the  notion 
That  the  Giver  of  our  life 
Alone  should  end  its  earthly  strife. 

My  own  hand  shall  end  my  sorrow, 
Escape  the  anguish  of  the  morrow. 
Farewell,  I  say,  then,  to  the  past, 
My  spirit  shall  find  rest  at  last. 


Answer  to  the  Suicide. 

Despairing  spirit,  why  dost  thou  seek 
A  reasoning  so  frail  and  weak  ? 
Think'st  to  change  God's  law  sublime 
By  a  self-inflicted  crime  ? 

Let  death's  angel  loose  the  cord 
That  holds  the  spirit,  saith  the  Lord  ; 
Natural  law  work  out  the  change 
To  give  the  spirit  wider  range. 

When  you  leap  the  abyss  of  death, 
Think  not  life  endeth  with  the  breath, 
For  on  beyond  there  burns  a  flame, 
Of  the  Refiner's  fire  the  same. 

Do  not,  I  pray,  then  hope  to  find 

By  force  the  rest  for  which  you  've  pined  ; 

The  issues  of  life  belong  to  God, 

His  hand  alone  should  wield  the  rod. 

Life  on  earth,  or  life  on  high, 
Life  's  immortal,  none  can  die  ; 


136  ANSWER  TO  THE  SUICIDE. 

Be  it  here,  or  be  it  there, 

The  same  law  governs  everywhere. 

God's  law  works  out  perfected  love, 
So  souls  in  higher  realms  may  rove, 
And  through  eternal  ages  soar, 
With  joys  increasing  evermore. 


M 


The  White  Elephant. 

We  give  to  thee,  O  "  sacred  Rose," 

A  welcome  on  our  shore, 
From  lands  where  Buddha  found  repose, 

We  learn  from  ancient  lore. 

And  did  the  Buddhist  worship  thee, 

And  make  of  thee  a  god? 
In  thy  majestic  grandeur  see 

A  "  leveler  of  the  sod  ?" 

And  did  a  "  star  "  rise  in  the  east, 
And  shed  on  thee  its  light  ? — 

That  on  wonders  man  might  feast, 
Turned  thee  to  ashes  white  ? 

Toung  Taloung,  of  royal  birth, 
So  strangely  quaint  thy  name, 

We  see  in  thee  a  sacred  worth, 
So  held  by  eastern  fame. 

So  from  the  eastern  sunny  clime 
We  give  thee  welcome  here, 


138  THE    WHITE    ELEPHANT. 

A  great  achievement  of  our  time, 
Of  this  eventful  year. 

Wilt  thou  toward  where  thy  life  began, 

E'er  turn  a  longing  eye  ? 
Or  for  that  beauteous  isle  Japan, 

Prematurely  die  ? 

O'er  history's  pages  man  will  pore, 
And  read  a  Barnum's  name, 

Who  in  eighteen  hundred  eighty-four, 
Adds  to  his  world-wide  fame. 

Thou  hast  come  across  the  sea, 

Daring  many  a  foe, 
And  the  centre  here  shalt  be 

Of  our  country's  greatest  show. 


Waiting. 

Reward  for  true  and  patient  waiting, 
With  hope  and  trust  without  abating, 
O  faithful  heart,  with  every  beat 
There  comes  a  voice  both  low  and  sweet 

"  To  you,  O  waiting  soul,  is  given 
The  key  that  opes  the  door  of  heaven, 
Giving  to  the  spirit  rest, 
By  patient  waiting  doubly  blest." 

To  such  are  given  the  key  to  wisdom, 
That  gives  to  every  soul  its  freedom  ; 
By  patient  waiting  we  shall  gain 
A  great  reward  for  every  pain. 

Looking  deep  into  the  future, 
Tracing  out  God's  works  in  nature, 
Reward  for  patient  searching  brings 
A  knowledge  of  the  cause  of  things. 

On  the  shore  of  time  we  're  waiting  ; 
For  the  boatman's  oars  are  listening, 


140  WAITING. 

To  our  ears  a  welcome  sound, 
To  happiness  and  freedom  bound. 

Then  landed  on  the  shore  immortal. 
Drinking  from  the  Fount  eternal, 
Where  the  living  waters  flow, 
There  to  drink  the  thirsty  go. 


The  Skeleton  in  the  Closet. 

Happy,  joyous  and  gay 

To  the  outside  world, 
But  hidden  in  a  closet  lay 

A  thing  of  hideous  mould. 

Like  a  canker  worm  it  eats 
The  life-blood  from  the  heartj 

With  waning  powers  no  more  it  beats, 
And  soul  and  body  part. 

In  the  merry  festive  hour, 

When  friends  are  gathered  in, 

It  uses  silently  its  power, 
And  leaves  a  sting  within. 

When  the  heart  beats  light  and  fast, 
"T  is  then  it  points  the  way, 

While  its  victim  stands  aghast, 
Where  it  in  hiding  lay. 

One  closet  holds  a  skeleton 
In  every  household  home  ; 


142       THE  SKELETON  IN  THE  CLOSET. 

So  from  this  earthly  life  we  turn 
Toward  that  which  is  to  come. 

So  from  this  skeleton  of  life, 

We  fain  would  soar  away, 
Where  powers  no  longer  meet  in  strife — 

No  longer  hold  their  sway. 


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